TO ESQUIVEL:
I write
“The strange new place is like a Hell
Of Dreams it smites

FROM ESQUIVEL:
She writes
“All Your words have rand a bell
that sounds of words that bite.”

TO ESQUIVEL:
I write
“I sense the Spell of the Heat Of Hell
in flight

FROM ESQUIVEL
She writes
“My lucks make me wish I’d set my Souf for Sell:
NO RIGHTS.”

TO ESQUIVEL:
I write
“I get excited when I check the mail
at nights

FROM ESQUIVEL:
She writes
“You’d think my Force Of Hope had fell
. . .not quite.”

TO ESQUIVEL
I write
“Every ambition seems to derail
at sight

FROM ESQUVEL:
She writes
Goodbye ‘til the next letter I mail
Please write

TO ESQUVEL:
I write
Sincerely Somber
Severely Regretting
FINIS