...Letters to the dead fall behind headboards when weeping overcomes us, sweeping, are lifted free, clearing away pennies and spoons – leftover utensils, touchstones for the woman whose withholding husband can no longer hear her, sharp pen on parchment. The cheek, when caressed, remembers shorthand, insertion of a comma to catch overdue breath. The dead answering when we least expect. Their whispers arrive as instruction – return to sender – I adore you. We remember salty, sweet, adhesive stamps against our rough tongues; with trust, we open the metal mouth, drop the envelope, watch it slip down its dark chute. Excerpted from "Return", The Shape of Caught Water available from Red Mountain Press or directly from the author (505.670.4327) http://redmountainpress.us/