My heart,
I thought about writing you this letter all week, ran the words I could say, the things I had to tell you, through my mind so often that now, that I'm putting words to paper it almost does not seem real.
How do I write out my feelings, knowing you know them better than even me? Dearest part of me, created from matter only found in my soul, what words are there that you've not already heard?
I want to rearrange these syllables into a sequence unheard, so that it will only ever belong to you, that you will be the owner and the listener. Everyone else will long for these words but will not have them because I have crafted them for you.
My heart, do you remember that day by the lake, as the air glinted in the light, like divinity longed to step out of it and inhabit a form, and time clicked stop?
I wanted to tell you then but couldn't find the words, couldn't find the language among all the ones you and I know, to properly paint the melody to convey the depths of my feelings in the caverns of me.
Instead, I drowned in the jewel-like water and you laughed and laughed. At that moment I thought if I passed away, if I was condemned and burnt, I would have earned it for borrowing against the universe to see joy spilt across your face, welling up in my heart.
I always want you laughing, heart in my hands, like when we watch Midsummer’s Night or you hear us dividing people into acids, bases and salts; you laugh and the world lights up then.
I always first look at you, to steal away your expressions and drink them up, glut myself on you like sin, so that you will belong just to me.
I am too selfish, sometimes I want to eat you up so that I will not have to bear this separation from you, so that I am the only person who gets to enjoy you.
It is not uncommon for us to want to eat the ones we love, they say. There, I've said it — put it down in print, made the words real, something you can touch and hold, something that exists in this world. And even if this letter crumbles away, it will always be true.
I love you thing in the spine, I love you thing dragging me out into the night, I love you moon eclipsing my heart, I love you. I want to trace these words on every surface, carve them into gold, whisper them into every living ear so that everything will echo them back to you.
I love you. I loved you that day by the lake, I loved you the first time we met even though I do not remember it, loving you at that moment felt like waking up. Like I had loved you long before you were introduced to me, so that it was not falling in love but remembering, like something familiar.
Thing in the mirror, you feel real and I love you. You make me tangible the way a shadow kisses its creator where they touch.
I want to spend the rest of my life entrenched in this, and here is where my selfishness comes in again—come away with me.
I know you are happy as you are, but let us steal away time from everyone else, go under the hill, swim in the waters, drink starlight and dance and dance for as long as we are able. I know you will never stay forever but I have carved out heaven so stay with me as long as you can. I love you, only you, only ever you.
Yours always.
- Swizel Pinto
F.Y.B.A
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