Shipwreck

Written in homemade iron gall ink with a gull's feather quill

What do I care for your self loathing?
Pen and ink, old book page
Alice Leach

It's a bad question I grant you 
but maybe you could tell me.
Alice Leach

Most of all, you have disappointed me.

It took two score and bruising to fall into your trap.

Broken letters
I fail to put us back together.

If I turn out the light 
it's not because I want darkness.

I won't let you play me

If I turn out the light

Any attempt at a cover-up is patchy at best.

Did you curse me?

Do I sound less 
charitable than I ought?

Speak slowly

Then maybe; just maybe
I'll be able to hear you, 
even if I can't see you.

Unremarkable letters 

Reluctant mother

I had hoped
to save you.