once more for those in the back

It would be too strange to send messages to your dead address not knowing who might be lurking there now, keeping an eye on it. I always thought one day, when there was more time, when we had retired, maybe, we might get back in touch, pick up where we left off. Maybe I’d go down to Mexico, send you pictures of the the pyramids you barely knew existed. Maybe I would send you pictures of the mountains and wild deserted places here. Maybe one day we would meet, you would come here to my city, maybe we could go across town and get tamales to bring back and eat on my porch where no one would see if you couldn’t take the heat of the peppers. We could hike in the woods, climb on the rocks, stare at the river and be silly and joke and talk and talk and talk. Maybe maybe maybe one day. So many things to show you, so many things to hear from you. Did you marry? Were you happy? Did you have dogs, friends, a life? Were you still sad and terrified somewhere underneath it all? I don’t know what you might have sent me, what you might have shown me, where you might have taken me if I’d traveled across the world to you. Maybe Maybe Maybe