Love letters from a leaf I
This is the story I wanted to write – Edgy – Hurtling us to an edge – Because flying is compulsive. I wanted to describe you. As I got to observe you. – Remotely. – In few words. – A catching phrase that compelled. – I stayed to read you. I wanted to contain you. – Make you the image I could flit past in a corridor in my mind – I would see you fleetingly. As one does the bloom through the garden window. – The image that floods and ebbs as quickly. – But remains as a leaf. – One I can go back to. – Willingly – Sometimes even with a breath of regret. – Unwittingly greening a memory. I was grateful. – For you. – Myself. – A pause that flitted and lay in a glance. – Made us an idea. Am I worth saving? I write to the background of an unsophisticated late-night thriller. – The trapped shout of the girl screams. Am I worth saving? – I only ever hoped – I could save you. Not in binaries. – Nor from a cross – But as a smooth stone. – I could rest you on a writing table – A weight that could draw my mind.
Love letters from a leaf II
This is the story I didn’t want to write. About swimming with you. And nets. Sharp coral. Rose traces. Lines on my skin. Hooks. I could hang myself on.
We: Embryonic. Still life. Breathing staccato. The lining torn from mismatched intentions. Still moist yet burning.
Swimming was our thing. We were practiced at diving. Through arch phrases. We found fissures of being.