I got your letter today, I almost overlooked it as it was stuck between the gap of my mailbox and my neighbors; but after coaxingly wedging it out i was able to tear it open greedily without a second to waste. I've got your hello from Berlin, the raspberry scented papers obviously doused in your perfume along with the wine stain on the edge was my little token of you from miles and miles away. It was the first time in months I heard from you and as I savored and swallowed every word i wish I was there under the evening rain on the town welcome sign on the way to you. Though I was never a countryside type of person, always being familiar with the hustle and bustle and the sleepless nights that manhattan brought me. So I kept your letter snug between the pages of a baudelaire paperback just in case I find myself wanting to visit you someday, when the scent of the papers fade and the flower tucked inside loses its shape and bloom.
