Love letter # 317

To you, finally, I can speak. Show. Become.

And all the lies – so many fucking lies – they are no longer required. Like the frontier undefended. Ramparts abandoned. For in you, all the reason I ever needed to destroy the masks.

Because you alone have seen me without the need for the shallow acclamation of pretty. Or the lurid glitter of victory. As I see you.

Even in the thrall of darkness I can find you with this compass – as you shall come to me. Tonight, it seems, every single star shall be ours to behold.