There’s something brutal about a letter

There’s something brutal about a letter.
Each that I receive
stinks of distance,
the bureaucratic stamped postmark
reminds me of hundreds of miles, 

and she can’t even say
she misses me.
She says she might miss me,
and she doesn’t say
she doesn’t want me back,
in so many words.
The words say that,
unsaid. 

The brutality of a letter.