Love letter # 683
I remember everything. It has never left me. The sense of you nearby. I hear the sound of your footsteps; they echo in the valley of my love. I feel your body’s warmth, like the humid cloak of hot afternoons, wrapped around me. I reach into space. The air is your fingertips. I move in time to the count of old songs, and there you are, impelling, willing me to fly. All these details are mine; for you have bled them into me. Together, we are the rainfall…and this ground, these flowers…they do not distinguish. There is no separation. All this beauty is present, as ever it was. Or so I choose to believe.