Love letter # 478

Every year at this time I fall in love with you again. For a few weeks from mid-September my body remembers. Not in words or pictures. In quickening. A tension sweet and low and giddy. On bright evenings I breathe in honey. I glide, as though you had just bestowed your kiss upon me. In the angled sunshine I bask in the sight your love.

Today, once more, I open like a flower.

More than half a life has passed since us. Ardour, argument, ache – they have cooled to forgetting. To the ordinary flaw of memory.

Yet, come the season, the quiet distance collapses; and in the velvet rush I understand. So much sweeter now. No grasping, no needing. None of the unquenchable thirst. Nothing to want. I simply walk in the shape of love, its form sculpted by light. Weightless. Boundless. Untethered.

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