Dear

Dear me,

Dear my, 

Dear he, 

I sigh. 

My dearest, 

a pleasantry, 

or an exclamation;

a high cost of living, 

one could say. 

I do believe

you've ingrained yourself

in my mind

and no letters

or pleasantries exchanged at dawn,

will get you out. 

For you'll always be dear to me,

my deer that sprints so gracefully

throughout the forest of my mind-

that my heart can barely stand 

to see you sprint away-

from the recoil of a gun

and the abrasiveness of the blind.