Love letter # 180
In the silence it’s all too obvious. There’s only noise between us and the quiet. And all these little scrawls that make letters, that turn themselves into words – they are nought but scratching.
Yet still we keep saying I love you. Still we keep making those sounds. We may know its folly; just some invention. Yeah – some invention. How could I not surrender? How could I not bathe in the light?
I decide to love you – but I love that you let me.