I’ll write you one last cover letter, lover

Hamish Lancaster
Sep 6, 2018 · 1 min read

I’ll write you one last cover letter, lover.

your next job will pay just enough. So we can afford plane tickets, concert tickets, train tickets, with money left over for books to read on the way.

Have I arranged enough words into the perfect order yet?

All at once I’m folding up and shutting down.

While the facts, stray thoughts, combined voices, outnumbered. All say that I should bet.

I’ll read you one last ghost story, Brother.

I dreamed of an old man who looked like John Nash. On the ground with two others, in what appeared to be a tunnel. The words “We hear you” On the wall. In strong, handwritten scrawl.

Have I arranged enough words into the perfect order now?

If our words were all alive, hard to catch and full of life. Should we really let them drive? Safer not to get attached, though totally lost at times, Sure.

I think it’s safer to let them go. Let them stay, just long enough. To scare us, save us, remind us, find us. It won’t really matter how.