Paper cuts

The truth was packed inside that letter
Folded in quarters
A crease in my mind
I do hope the edges were sharp!
As knife edged as my sentences
Can you feel the welts like paper cuts?

Words coded in spelling mistakes and inkblots
I never could write with the fountain pen
I imagine your sneers
Whispering through my ears
You were always so good at writing

The moist stamp in the corner
Holds a faint memory from my tongue
By the time the postman delivers
Those rivers will have run dry

If you hold up the envelope
Close to your nostrils
Its "Eternity" though faint
Like the good memories of you
I chose this fragrance with a reason
And I know you will enjoy
The irony