the inevitability of love

I want to write you a love letter.

I want to catch your fingertips and unravel you in ribbons of red satin.

I want to fill your quiet places with the memory of my voice.

I want to envy your fall while I orchestrate the means of your descent.

I want to be your fondest regret.

2 Responses to “the inevitability of love”

  1. Elspeth Says:

    You’re tempted by the purity of starting over, this week? There is such emptiness here, though. This is not merely a vastness of space to fill in any manner I choose (or fate allows), rich in wonder and possibility: it is lacking in anything tangible to hold onto. Directionless. A void.

    I suppose that will change, in time.

    ~ Ellie

  2. pnthrkitty Says:

    I, too, am tempted by the purity of starting over. The temptation is corrupted by the lack of options though. If only someone wanted to be my fondest regret.

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