Night Letters: Inspired by Tracy K. Smith's Night Letters by Emma Levinbook Monday I turn to feel the heat of your breath Grazing my neck. Its steadiness, its gentle gust Alive like a flickering flame Immune to the wind. I reach out for you, For the sharp touch of your shoulder blades, Hoping to be illuminated By the spark that came alive when we first met And lured me to you Every late-night drive through the solitary streets of your hometown, Every Sunday afternoon in the park with your fingers intertwined with mine, Every coffee cup at the crack of dawn as I begged you to hold me for one minute longer. I search for the weight of your body, Expecting it to be tucked next to mine. For the curve of my hips To fit into the space the edges of your frame create, As if I were the missing corner piece of your body’s intricate puzzle, As if God designed us high in the clouds And gently placed us back into Earth’s sanctuary...