found · back in the drawer it was written at
to the person who used to live here —
i sent this once. it came back. i am told the address is no longer an address; the lane was, at some point, renamed, and the house with it.
i am writing it again, into itself, which is what we do with letters that have nowhere to go. the ferryman brought it home with his other unhappy mail.
if you read this, it is because you are still here, and the place is. i wanted to say only: i remember the way the upstairs landing used to creak under no weight at all.
with love —
— the sender, twice
a letter that has been twice: once outward, once back. the postman b. handles many such returns; the bundle grows. some letters keep coming home until the sender, too, moves away.
see also · letter returned · ferry · creak · silence · lost