Love letter # 476
If we were younger we would be together by now. We would have found out. Now, we hover. Trying not to love. With no wish for bruising. Nor drama. Awareness as a form of inertia. Acknowledgement. Polite conciliation. Love within acceptable limits. Perhaps just enough to be torture.
But no – were not doing noble denial. We’re doing fear.
Neither of us wishes to break, yet both of us know we’re only half a thought away. Still, we cling to our slender edge. Because a stubborn fire is apt to burn the air between us. Fuelled by something in you and me. Something I can’t name. But am.
But what if we stumble from our great height? What if we fall?
Imagine right and wrong didn’t matter. Suppose this was all we had. To love one another. To find a way. What then?