Dear Prof. Bonagura, 10/6/10
I watched the flame in the breeze; desperately clinging to the wick like a child free-style, balancing on a fence as she dances. So fleeting is the life of the flame, so ephemeral, it has but a glimpse and it vanishes. We are all like flames clinging to some temporal surface. When I am around you the ground moves beneath me, you transcend the world and your soul divides into pieces and you fill the empty spaces that surrounds me. When I am with you my heart races, I try to keep pace, but to stay close to you, is like chasing and oasis. You are like an orchid, a symbol of beauty. You are a Venetian street, full of cobblestone and granite; you are like the hills of Tuscany. I know now why a flower must be elusive, you enter without being intrusive, and you speak without having spoken and your silence is like music, your are the potion that poisons my thoughts, you intoxicate, you are the vine that stretches to the sky and the clouds part so you may pass, you are golden like stardust, tender like a blade of summer grass. When you awaken the world awakes to greet you, when you smile the world comes to meet you. I love when you are melancholy, it is like the river sighing. I love you when you are quiet, almost absent, and your silence is a lullaby, and it quiets my thoughts. Let me speak to you with your silence, and a smile will suffice. Let me breathe with your breath and I’ll suffocate the sadness. And I’m joyful, fixed in wonder as I lie awake in madness.
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