Who put us in one in the first place?
Did we choose this disguise?
Our poor bones as we were squeezed through the letterbox.
In the dark of the letterbox
I broke
free of the envelope.
Words I spoke,
words of prophecy.
Multitudes of other envelopes simultaneously burst open.
A sound of envelopes rubbing together
like footsteps sliding over melting snow.
I saw a world
where nobody was a dead letter
or needed returning to sender.
Or rewriting.
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