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.

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