Wanderlust

It all started off
with the letter
you dropped.
I lunged over deserts
plunged into seas
to reach.
Your words became
purple blots
bleeding into
breathing blues
gently swaying
night lilies.
That night I
slipped on
moonlight and
fell into
a twirling
chaos of
wanderlust.
And I never
closed my
mail box
ever again.
All of you
was all
that was
not left
behind.