Love letter # 534

An old song – one you introduced me to – and an idea. You breathe through the lyrics, and I feel again what I used to feel. The swoon. Your intoxicant promise.

In a click I am searching you. What was last thing we said, typed? The slow, email coda of a mad immolation. How are ya? What ya listening to? The polite sign offs. Silence.

I know I could dive deeper. Google you. But why? It would not be you, as it would not be me. Not those lovers. The two who danced, who felt the song in their bones. Any new exchange would be of ashes.

Hit repeat. The song plays out again. For a few minutes I feel you in the circle of my affection – affectation? – and in the well of my heart I sing your name. But it ends here. Because it has all been said.





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