Love letter # 575
So now it has come to this. A wish to forget. To wipe clean the slate. To pass through the wall of remembering, with all its built up, sedimentary longing, and emerge stripped and minimal on the other side of you.
The shape of your name in my mouth – the sense of you which I conjure so readily – the memory of hands that ripples on my skin – the glow of a fire in my veins … these things I shall set aside. These I shall abandon to the distance of forgetting. No more a song, not even a whisper. Just the liberty of silence. Just the space where you stood.
For there not even ghosts shall linger.
I have loved you in such a way – so utterly – with everything there is. It has been my choice to do so; and I have been free to stop at any time. You have never tied me down. You were only beautiful. I only had eyes.
Eyes I now close. Eyes that will open again soon – looking elsewhere. Into the cleanliness of nowhere. Not even the trace of a footprint. Or a shaping of sand. Or a word that sounds remotely like you.
For then I shall forget. And begin.
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