Monday, December 15, 2008

Open Letter to E____ D________ (version 13)

I want you. Here. Pouring into me, liquid glass.

Passing over and through me like the breath of Spring. Trace the outlines of your tiny frame. Nestle into you like bones in a drawer.

Wrapped around.

Not out of reach or out of touch. No more bitterness. No regret or wondering IF. No wishing songs would write themselves. No sneering twists of Fate. No cruel horizon--where the sun rises only almost, and kisses with a promise of heat. Almost. Almost.

So breathe. Be with me in God's full light. Hold, console. Brick by brick I'll make myself into an altar, and our warm blood will run together into the sand.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

The song that I came to sing remains unsung to this day.
I have spent my days in stringing and unstringing my instrument... -Tagore

10:45 PM  

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