Envelop(e)s

Winter began with a sense of closure;

December 4th: driving until 4 in the morning.
I always hoped hope would stop this.
I didn’t know that night I told you I was lost stayed with you like it did.
I’m writing letters to a past on the back of tattered photographs.

and she said “you scare me in the most beautiful way.”

The rain on the window says things never end after they begin.
There’s constant reminders that distance took her.
Hair ties on the floor, there’s still pictures in the drawer.
I’ve got a pile of clothes that I wish was yours.

sometimes we have to be ruined so we can start over.

Things you’ve never seen remind me of you, I look at them and know what you’d say.
Late night drives and I’m at the church again.
This is sorry for leaving. This is sorry for making it seem-

i don’t believe in God, but there’s grace in everything.

i stop thinking and that feeling of you echoes through my head

this is sorry. this is sorry.
this is

Jack Rechsteiner

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Filed under Fall 2014, Poetry Fall 2014

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