paper planes
flyin high
i wrote my first letter when i couldve still fit into a teacup awkward half-words scribbled onto paper addressed to fred flintstone of all people asking him if i could visit mum didnt let me post it as she stood me on a chair and explained he didnt quite exist rough times for a kid.
i havent written many of them i wrote letters to santa on christmas eve asking for stupid silly things and i stopped once the magic wore off i wrote to my best friend after we started going to different schools thinking i could keep it going but the magic ran out i wrote to the girls i liked yet try as i might the magic was hard to find i wrote to friends chosen words of thanks and learned honesty is not a boomerang.
i guess i put a kind of love into every letter i have written.
theres this peace and attention i feel is put into letters that would get lost in conversation there is an intimacy in the thoughts invested carefully chosen words that cant be sent received anyway else but in the touch and feel upon ones skin.
there is magic in paper and i want to be its sorceror.
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