there is a mature and patient undertone to this poem that just reeks of love. Its as if the writer isn't asking for permission to enter the attic...she has assessed its cobwebs and aging papers with eyes wide open. The melancholy dust hasn't scared her away...it drew her closer to him.
Now she has made an emotionally intelligent decision and anticipates delving into the inventory...as soon as the object of her affection is ready she will cover him with staying power.
She isn't afraid of what she'll find, she's more excited about reading in between his lines...
Great post...as usual