dispatch

remember email?
remember personal emails?
all those intimate,
verbose and
excessively punctuated
messages
we used to send?
advice, confessions,
updates, apologies,
processing, unpacking,
therapizing, clarifying.
now i think we only plan.
we schedule, arrange.
reschedule, raincheck.
relentlessly try to align
our ever complicated calendars,
in as few sentences as
possible.
distilling ourselves mercifully 
into yes, no, and ok.
but once or twice
a year i'd love
just one. 

just one email 

that asks nothing 
of me
but to keep its secrets. 

i'd surely reply with mine.