Postcards by Seth Hendrickson

Postcard #1

Hold to your hope like a starving dog to its fresh flesh. A sulfur spring away. Just a hop skip and a jump to say I love you in person. Push my affectionate buttons I am brought to you. We are becoming of each other.

Postcard #2

Do I help you stay awake? Pray that you stay. You are here, and you are beautiful, and it’s lovely. I drink honey in your name, caress the scar you left me. I am so happy we met, and everything after.

Postcard #3

Core of sweet dream something that wakes you with a smile. The only person I know to not let love tarnish nor corrode nor rust, so far beyond any metal. This love with you is breathing life: growing evolving, a garden well-tended. Beauty, variety, terror.

Postcard #4

Darling with the devil-angel love, full of every thought but the ones that cease your work pencil smudges and broken glass blood, lover are you edacious for the future at your fine eyes?

Postcard #9

Perfection has a price and its effort, with you there is no lack of work or trying to excel at what we do, adept in loving, and apt at this relation. No distance will harm our affection, no mile can break this bond. My star, my love, my sunshine, listen to Proof by Paramore if you ever need assurance.

Postcard #10

[written in orange] This color doesn’t get used a whole lot. Its Friday the 13th today: our loveliest day. I hope this letter finds you in good health (and in a prosperous enough position to put wealth)

Love you, loser ^

Postcard #11

Time will reveal more and more painful things; its human to hurt. Idealizing is dumb. I’m glad I’ve never needed it with you. I am impressed by the being which resides in you, perhaps not perfect, but perfect for me, lovely ocean woman living in the wrong tempo.

Postcard #12

I love you is the simple way to put it, doll, and a post card isn’t enough room to express its grandeur, but I do. In all respects, head over heels for you, my matching card, my mad hatter. This is how true love feels: free and flowing.

 

Lucky Postcard #13

I can visibly see my words crawling. I can hear nine distinctive styles in the same sentence all fighting to earn the next glass of purity you serve. You see through me like I’m half-polished obsidian, but you tear out benevolent mental tumors that I was so used to they felt like boulders I could boulder. Now we work in tandem making the next generation of human fire, your eyes bright with spite: the second strongest fuel.

Seth Hendrickson

Seth Riley Hendrickson is a junior at NAU double majoring in biochemistry and French. Originally from Burien, he enjoys D&D, creating stories with his brother, and journaling. He and his fiancé published the poetry book Of Blood and Sugar under the name Riley N. Raye. His future plans involve researching synthetic life and becoming an established author.

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