Incoherent, jumbled words.
A cocktail, a fruit salad.
Teetering, staggering from the load.
The weight of the confessions they carry.
Grateful, deeply moved, for the letter was read.
Time is precious, yours graciously, you offered.
This precious commodity she gobbled.
She drank it up, no drop left.
An apology she offers.
For the ungraceful presentation.
Restructure her words she cannot.
The comforting gown of apology is her only recourse.
Post scriptum, she adds.
To reassure you, her precious reader is her deep intent.
“Next time, I will be brief.”She promises.
For short and sweet will be the delivery.