Love letter 969

Young once. Alive, dangerous, enthralling. How readily I fell. Scarcely believing that one such as you would spare a second for someone like me.

So long ago now. Dust gathered in the hollow of our ardour. Blurred memory in the place of blue sky hope.

Yet I will not regret. Not ever. How could I? For I have heard your whispers in the privacy of darkened rooms. Basked in the gentle warmth of your repose.

Even in the brutal glare of morning, where all the marks of time are laid bare before the uncaring god, and we are each sacrificed to the ever unfolding process, I will run glad fingers across of the ridge of scar you left behind.

If this is my ruin, how blessed I am. For it was carved by you.