Amour: Pps

PPS: Do you remember the way light fell through the blinds that Sunday? Like confession through teeth. Like forgiveness through a crack in the door.

No envelope this time. Just this. Just the echo. pps amour

PPS: This morning I peeled an orange for myself and thought of the way you used to save me the last slice. Sweet. Imperfect. Wet with the juice of something we couldn't name. PPS: Do you remember the way light fell

Postscript to a love I forgot to sign