dearblankpage

Frank Giampietro

Dear Blank Page,

Writing you after all
this time is
awkward. I feel
the same as when I am lying

down with my son,
asking God out loud
to give my boy good dreams.
Shall I call you

Madam, Doctor, Sire?
Would you like to know
how I am doing?
I am fine. The weather

here is unpredictable.
Yesterday we went to Malta.
But forgive the accretion
of facts. You really want

to know how I am doing?
If you loved me,
you would.
Do you love me?

Of course,
I don’t love you either.
so don't bother to reply.
I doubt I would open

a letter from you
if it were filled
with diamonds
and rubies—

O Darling, forgive me
please write, write
anything, to anyone,
but please send it to me.

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