Letter, October 01, 2013


With the onset of the night I find my heart galloping like a dark mare through the ponds of stars gathering in the sky searching for your face. A hunger deeper than the night and more ancient than his quivering carries me, propels me onto you. Like a blind man who knows no scent but your scent I am hurled through the streets, mercilessly. Nostalgia grows inside of me wide as the desert and with it a feeling of lack, of incompleteness, of missing that which is more me than my own self, my own body. So the night turns and I set my poems as stars in the sky hoping that they would guide your vessel to me. I then turn to my bed, drawing my love for you as a blanket over me. I wake at dawn rubbing the stars of longing from my eyes, gaze into your face shining through the white sky, then run onwards with my day hoping that this day, will be the day.

Devotedly yours,