Sunday, October 11, 2020

day THIRTEEN HUNDRED and SIXTY THREE

Box of Letters 

I don’t know what I’m saving it for.
But I have it stashed on what I think
is a safe spot—next to my old Exley,
below the clipped quote from Proust,
& not far from sad, old Richard Yates.
But yes, those letters are there for me.
For someday. For I don’t know what.

--Scott Silsbe

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