Lost Letters

In the pocket of a coat, frayed and worn,

I found a letter, its edges torn.

A faded love note, stained by the years,

hushed whispers of dreams, mingled with fears.

The ink almost gone, but the feelings remained,

a tether to moments, unbound and unchained.

I traced each word with a soft, trembling hand,

a ghost of a promise, a map of a land.

It breathed with my breath, pulsed soft like a flame,

reminding me gently, we’re never the same.

And in that old coat, I felt the world spin,

a stitch in the fabric of where I’d been.

Each crease told a story, each tear sang a tune,

that love, like this letter, can fade far too soon.