Vida de cão (ou o olhar do lobo) Love's Slow Decay I found your letter, wrinkled in a stack Beneath the stairs, while cleaning up the mess Of last month's rain. (The box was mildewed black.) The envelope was ruined, but I guess Some higher cause preserved your final words, The last of all your nebulous good-byes. Some places on the paper now are blurred Forever, even if the letter dries. I still recall the night you dropped it by, The casual way I turned and closed the door. I hated you; for years I couldn't cry. For years I wished that you'd return once more. Yes, your last love-token has gone rotten. No, you weren't forgiven, just forgotten. Scott Ennis --------