Love letter # 190
… and now that I don’t think of you, you see fit to invade my dreams. You are the ghost in my sleep, tiny spectral fragments dislodged … like some final, unexpected echo … and I wake up shaken; staring into a dark that now contains you.
I am not investing you with mystical powers – nor suggesting that I am in your thrall. Your power over me is long gone – high summer turned pale. All I am saying is that you are somehow still inside me – perhaps you always will be. I may well be a rock these days but I was carved by your passing.
… yet were it not for these dreams, I would not be writing this, for I am as much in your past as you are in mine. We both know that even the ashes have been scattered – all traces of fire kicked over. And we’re cool with that … aren’t we?
Don’t worry, this isn’t me reconsidering – it’s just my way of saying that I loved you once with everything … and even now there’s something. Me wanting the most for you. Me praying that wherever you are and whoever you’re with that you wake up smiling, your eyes sparkling like they used to blind me.
… and if sometimes you miss me, maybe I will see you in my dreams.
Love letter # 125
Things understood slowly are all the more dreadful. The creeping dawn. The inescapable conclusion. The fact I got away with it.
It wasn’t you, babe – it was me. I was the screw up. You told me who you were but I pretended you were someone else. I was the deluded one – you were just crazy.
What a fire you were – but that was no excuse. I chose these burns. They were all I had of you.
But I’m here now – and I quite like it.
Love letter # 202
I love that we’re so corny. It’s like clit lit. The two of us drifting – perhaps even pleased to do so – until …
And all the cheesy shit is true: accidental, out of the blue, bloody incredible. It makes me smile just thinking of it – as though I’m reading the worldwide smash. Carried away.
I guess the challenge now is to change the ending.
Love letter # 151
I thought about why I love you. Simple. The child in me meets the child in you. And we play. Even with fire.
Love letter # 103
The big sustain at the end of the song. Music still … but fading. And then? The silence before the sound. Memory. Everything as soft as vanishing. And then – in the beautiful quiet … you my love.
Love letter # 383
We don’t have to say, do we? This doesn’t need a name, does it? Surely, we can just be together for as long as we want to be. If you like being with me and I like being with you, isn’t that just fine? (I guess we both have our questions.)
Basically, what I think is this: if we try to own this it will turn sour in our hands. We build a wall around loveliness only to make it smaller; and I want this to be huge.
This is our lucky treasure – and look, here are some feathers we plucked from the breeze. We can make wings or we can make chains. What would you rather?
When I wake up tomorrow I want you next to me. If this would please you, it would please me. If life is a journey I will freely admit to having no idea where I’m going – but I’m more than cool to get lost with you.
I say: dance while the music still plays, kiss because you want to.
I will shine a light for you. Will you walk in it a while and make believe there is no such thing as darkness? I will.