Written by Arlee Francis
I did not write you a letter.
Instead, you wrote one to yourself.
On a locket, on a bridge, in the middle of Paris I read your declaration of love.
How brave, I thought, to love yourself more than anyone else.
But then, I thought.
This is my home, how could I not love this strange, soft little world?
- I’m sorry,
(i should’ve realised sooner)