Sport 39: 2011
Envelope
Envelope
I stick a stamp on an envelope.
It is a lake, a little glassy, and a mountain, behind the lake.
A little bit of lake is left behind on my tongue.
I would not like to be a fish in that lake.
A little bit of me would always be going missing.
I would always be leaving the lake for the mountain.
Now it is several days later,
and I am waiting for a reply.
Then I see that the stamp is still attached to me.
So that explains my demonic energy lately!
That explains how I rose so high so fast,
what everyone means when they refer to my depth.
But where am I being sent?
And when I arrive, who will open me?
Roughly, with a finger, or gently, with a knife?