Megan Simpson

I won’t trust the post office

Organic feelings are hard
to manufacture.

I want to write you a letter sleepless
in seattle style.

So, this will just be a small note to say:
If you had a different body and a different career
and maybe even a different personality, you would
be my dream man. But I wouldn’t really be interested.

There is no world where we settle down together, but
imagining these scenarios has given me a healthy thrill
of anxiety: Could we name a child Jude?
Will the neighbors like our gnocchi?

Please write back quick. Inter-universal
travel must take a while. I can’t imagine
the postal fees.