Love letter # 459
A song came on the radio today. Not one I hear that often – but one that still sings of our time together. While it played – and for a few minutes afterwards – I was in love with you all over again. All I could hear was your husky laugh. Taste your mouth. Feel what it felt like to be wanted by you.
Less romantic realities may have ground such wonders to predictable dust, yet my body still holds the sensations. My heart still sounds out your name. Not in deluded hope or obsessional fixation but in honour. For loving you was one of the most wonderfully intense and beautiful things I ever did.
I am not sure where you are tonight, or who you are with, but I am a fire in the arms of memory. Warmed. Glad to have once been so crazy.
I thank you once more for the blood you sent crashing through formerly ossified veins; because, having been broken over the back of you I am no longer afraid of anything. And I will die knowing what it was like to love as though nothing else mattered.
Which it doesn’t.