Post by ezio alaster laurance on Nov 10, 2010 21:18:02 GMT -5
ezio alaster laurence
twenty-six. professor. classical literature. gabriel aubry.[/font][/i]
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Alexandria,I love you.
Alexandria,The sun slips through the blinds, gold strips upon our kitchen table. Willow, like your maiden name; the grain is white, and cold upon my skin. My hand casts a shadow over the paper, caught in a golden dash, and I cannot see the words I write. But I will not move to better light, not when the dust is dancing in the morning cast, and sways and spirals to my breath. You told me once, that dust in light is the most beautiful thing. Can you remember, my Alexandria? Can you find those words you spoke, that stirred the golden dust? I didn’t believe you. Dust is merely dust.
You are my most beautiful thing.
Alexandria,For the rest of the world, I laugh. I teach, and pretend that it fulfills me. I pretend to love, and each smile is numb on my lips. Perhaps, I am an incorrigible liar. Perhaps there is no fixing me.
Alexandria,Perhaps. . . ten thousand times. Perhaps I’ve called your number, ten thousand silent times. Perhaps ten thousand leaves have fallen since the day you softly vanished. Perhaps ten thousand snowflakes have fallen quietly today, perhaps ten thousand blankets will never keep me warm. Perhaps I’ll write ten thousand letters before you read just one. Perhaps, I’d walk ten thousand miles to see your gentle smile. Perhaps I’ll live ten thousand lives before I meet with you again. Perhaps I’ve said I love you, ten thousand murmured times.
Perhaps, I’ll give you ten thousand whispers more.
Alexandria,These letters scatter all across our kitchen. Some traipse down the shadowed hall, some rest against the windowsill, square silhouettes hewn against the empty yellow light. Each on stark white paper, folded into a quiet envelope. I don’t know why I write them, these words you’ll never see. I’ll burn them, one by one, if you come back to me. Perhaps you’ll read but one or two before they fade into soft flame, but I’ll kill those that are the worst.
Alexandria,You died four years ago; I believe I am insane. I cannot close my eyes without seeing you, my hand shakes as I write. You are, undoubtedly, a drug I will forever need, and can never have again. You wrecked me, like I was something fragile. If you hated me, you'd laugh.
Alexandria,Smile, my Alexandria. You were born today, twenty six years ago. I’ve bought you flowers; they rest against the glass curve of a sloping vase, sipping from pure water. Can you guess which kind they are?
Alexandria,I used to be strong, but that was before I met you. I used call my family, and meet for holiday, but that was before you died. I used to lose myself to the must of yellowed pages, to the fall of autumn reds and browns, but that was before. I used to be reckless, on a downward-sloping spiral, but that was before. I used to toss back my head to laugh, strum acoustic strings with the sound of your voice, but that was before. I used to wake with my arms around out, but that was before.
I don't recognize the man in the mirror, because you're gone. I put bottles to my lips, I exhale soft smoke, because you're gone. I forget things, silly little things, because you're gone. I'm broken, because you're gone. I pretend, because you're gone. I've killed a man, because you're gone.
I write these letters, because you will forever be gone.
Alexandria,I always will.
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[/color]elodie. sixteen. NLTR virgin.[/font][/i][/center]
