Sunday, December 25, 2016

Secret Notes

Dear Sunshine,
I want to tell you a dozen things.
I want to tell you how much you intrigue me but I know it's a bad idea.
I'd like to get to know you better and tell you more about myself in turn, but in the process I know I could get myself and others hurt.
Knowing full well, I still feel drawn toward you. I yearn to reach out toward you much like a sun-loving vine tangles her way forward and climbs toward the warmth of the sun's rays.
-Latā, The Vine

Dear Beloved,
I managed to finally rid myself of you, that is, until today. I ran across an acquaintance and instead of moving forward gracefully, I found myself wanting to dig for any information as to your whereabouts, well-being, etc.
Perhaps I could inquire, but I know it was unlikely that I could manage the task without giving myself away-- or appearing desperate for you. (You know how I care about impressions.)
How can I know you, truly, when I am ungrateful of you when I have to to myself?  I take our moments for granted and then pine for you in the aftermath of your absence. Why is it so hard to admit that to you when we're together, alone?
-Ekākī, The Loner

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