Playing Our scratched records,

Reading unsent letters

I thought better of sending

Before our relationship’s ending.

“You only talk in riddles”,

Your favourite bugbear.

I’d try to silence you by playing with your hair,

Your voice was raised,

Doors were slammed,

Sofa beckoned.

I guess this is another unsent letter

Another riddle where you’re still blind to the answer.

I still die for you,

Melt at your unmentioned name.