Love Letters

1. Dots on the bottom of my wine glass. Your sustain petal creates reverb like a dreamworld. If I could write a song with your name in the title, I’d be all in. Tricky radio. For the healing of a lesser god, I give praise. For what I cannot claim to own, you have inhabited me like the stroke of midnight. I’m peeling off my clothes to your strum. I am breathing loudly but trying to seem “alright.” My feet are cold. And I’ve had nothing to drink but you. Count it all joy, and yet, we ache for one another. You are the repetition of my heart. Reverberating off oil slicks satirized in their appeal to satiate my hunger for just another appeasing.

2. You stumble in late and I’m supposed to accept it. We bounce off all the walls like rubber bands and I will try not to cut myself up into leaflets you will mourn in the morning. Though I am happy to have you back, I am fully aware of your distractions. And how much you did not miss me while you were away… I will play it safe. Create another distraction for you. I was never a good housewife. Laundry and dishes and sweeping and dusting and the like…I always thought you were better. Not because I didn’t want to do them, though. I loved it all. It was grand. It was all that I wanted. It was you and me and Saturday nights and wine and kissing and you being as interested in the moonlight as I am.

3. I believe in our co-existence. I believe in co-habitation. I believe in cooperation. I believe in companionship. I believe in collapsing into you. I believe in cats. I believe that catastrophes can be avoided or dealt with gracefully. I believe in catapulting myself into your worryship. I believe in cutting through bullshit. I believe in calling you when we are apart one from another. I believe in carving my initials into your unyielding heart. I believe that cacophonies have ruined us. I believe in naming the culprit, even when nothing can be changed. And I believe in changing our minds…