Love letter # 265
What was once a wind whipped, steely chill is now the softly folding mist. Hard edges turned to comfortable blur. The colour of memory wistful and lovely. Sad howl rendered mellow song.
They say ‘tis nothing more than time but I feel it is not so; for in this gentle distance circles the thankful breath of grace. The rhythm of a passion cooled – the life of a love still beating.
This is the calm of acceptance – a space where flowers bloom without the rigour of daily tending. It is the beauty we inherited from the respectful closing of the book that used to be you and me.
Once we had a fire. Now we have a warmth. Where once we fought over an impossible future, now we share the peace of a past that served us both well. This is a legacy at once more subtle and powerful than the mere passing of days – because like the light that drew us together, it is the steady and eternal beacon of harbour. And here, at last, no storms shall set these ships asunder.
Love letter # 242
In the end, I will leave with exactly what I came with; so I would like to spend some of that journey with you. It would make things brighter. There would be skin. And weakness. And splendour. And all other catechisms of purpose. Yet perhaps there is something quieter, something beneath the mighty clamour, which we may find one day, which is the true beauty we both seek.
Love letter # 356
Why? Because it feels so good to care. Because I am a fire when I love you. For when I am most animal, I am most angel – and to wrap my arms around you in the sweet quiet of the night is to seek an audience with the light. Because when I love you this way, everything is in its place – and beauty is everywhere.
Love letter # 289
Joy and sorrow are the twin lodgers of my two roomed heart. They are the on and the off – the song and silence. They moved in when you did. They are both the light of your nearness and the shadow that it casts. The promise that you bring and the love that you withhold.
I am full sail when you arrive – a shipwreck when you leave. Determined beforehand, succumbed thereafter. Every guard I take against you – so easily circumvented. For beauty is the undoer of resolve – the rhyme that shatters reason.
Would that I could be strong; shut down those rooms – kick out those imposters. But no. For they are as my blood – the very river of my being – and I am the beat they proclaim. Even were I to discard both the drum and the stick, time would still be kept and it would still be the ever steady measure of my love.