Miniver nuzzles against Skwisgaar's shoulder. "He said a lot of things," the poet squeaks softly. He takes another slow, deep breath to try to force his voice to even out. "I got the letter in th'other room. Let you read it if y'want. Or I could tell you what's in it but..." He stops again, breathing, squeezing Skwisgaar's arm a little. "I'm sorry. This um... I mean... There's so much I remember suddenly and it ain't all you... and it's a lot of other things. It's hard to even think how to explain it all. Shit. Shit." Miniver scrubs a sleeve over his eyes frustratedly. "JESUS this is stupid. Ugh. How dumb is it I can't even tell you about a 30-year-old letter? FUCK. Okay..."
Miniver tangles his arms around Skwisgaar and leans against him and focuses on breathing and listening to him and trying not to let Skwisgaar see him as being still weak.