Love letter # 417

My love for you is almost entirely imagined. It exists in the velvety realm between fantasy and despair. Silly ideas and simple facts. It brings them together. Tears them apart.

And who knows what else?

Because you sure haven’t noticed. Maybe I am someone who simply flickers into your attention from time to time. Not worthy of closer observation. Allowed to pass.

But I can see right through the auto-pilot. See who you are. Much softer than you like to pretend. Someone imbued with real warmth – but maybe a little scared. And bruised, of course.

Perhaps one day you will stop – and there will be that moment and we will both know.

Until then I shall render the entire scene in daydream. Over and over until it comes out just right.

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2 thoughts on “

    • Hey Greg – yeah sure it does seem very moderne, doesn’t it? Then again, so many people bemoan the fact that they can’t (their belief) express their feelings. Maybe some of these billets doux might trigger them. We can but hope. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

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