Tonight I finally had time to sit down and write a letter. I had been wanting to write this person a letter for a long time. But after jotting down the words, scribbled in my poor penmanship, I thought best to set these words free. So if they happen to splattered your windshield as you are cruising the information highway, take a moment to read them before reaching for your windshield washer lever.
Let love be your guide.
Heather
August 10, 2004
Red and dusty, I can think of better words than sky.
My mind dancing with thoughts. A tango of ideas and a waltz of words. The world, too big, the people, too small.
When did we turn our backs on ourselves?
I can still hear her call my name from the oceans of moonlight. A whisper of clouds, then it was gone. The moment, the question, was left unanswered. But my name, the name rolling off her tongue, had been foreign.
That sound.
That was the first time my name had been tasted. It was the first time my ears were filled with those tones.
She licked her lips and thanked me, then disappeared.
I wiped the blood from my mouth feeling mortal once more.
Is this the penalty for silence?
With my breath, I wrote your name in the stars. My heart already yours, I have nothing else to carry. My hands free to discover, my chest open to explore. I am a child to these lessons. Chasing my passions like stardust painted butterflies.
When the hardest thing is to sit still and count to ten, what can be said about breathing? About life? About love?
And yet, even sea shells call out the names of their lovers. Waves of memories. Sea salt dry.
Do the questions still remain?
When I look into your eyes, nothing else exists.
When I lay next to you listening to you breathe, its love that washes over me.
Drifting in the universe of you, I am at home.
Embrace me.
You do.
And we spin and spiral like flames licking the sky. The remnants of our desire and passion, now ashes. Blown in the wind, an offering.
Red and dusty at a glimpse.
A second look.
Just sky.
My mind dancing with thoughts. A tango of ideas and a waltz of words. The world, too big, the people, too small.
When did we turn our backs on ourselves?
I can still hear her call my name from the oceans of moonlight. A whisper of clouds, then it was gone. The moment, the question, was left unanswered. But my name, the name rolling off her tongue, had been foreign.
That sound.
That was the first time my name had been tasted. It was the first time my ears were filled with those tones.
She licked her lips and thanked me, then disappeared.
I wiped the blood from my mouth feeling mortal once more.
Is this the penalty for silence?
With my breath, I wrote your name in the stars. My heart already yours, I have nothing else to carry. My hands free to discover, my chest open to explore. I am a child to these lessons. Chasing my passions like stardust painted butterflies.
When the hardest thing is to sit still and count to ten, what can be said about breathing? About life? About love?
And yet, even sea shells call out the names of their lovers. Waves of memories. Sea salt dry.
Do the questions still remain?
When I look into your eyes, nothing else exists.
When I lay next to you listening to you breathe, its love that washes over me.
Drifting in the universe of you, I am at home.
Embrace me.
You do.
And we spin and spiral like flames licking the sky. The remnants of our desire and passion, now ashes. Blown in the wind, an offering.
Red and dusty at a glimpse.
A second look.
Just sky.
Let love be your guide.
Heather
For those who have just read that letter, know that it is not often that I share my handwritten personal letters to my loved ones with other people. And to whom this letter is for, you know who you are. I felt like the words I wrote to you needed to be released. Thank you for continuing to inspire me.
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