Love letter # 481

If once I hoped that time and distance would quell the fire – now I understand how spectacularly those gambits have failed. Seeing you again. So near. So fucking far away.

What I had felt to be true was still true. Beating steady. Counting time. Measuring the distance between dread and desire.

For you sit opposite me now. Polite space observed. The quiet diplomacy of not touching. A candle burning down untended. Little flame sputtering. A swirl of smoke. A dissipation. And in the mad vermillion sky of my wanting – the wonderful flood of monsoon rain. Preparing to wash everything away.