I had burned the letter you sent me
The listless flames as it was consumed in the fire made me painfully aware of my own impotence
I had always thought of her voice in terms of mild summer rain,
But in that letter I discovered her passion
She wrote, "I feel so small, I feel that you can love me up on a moment, whereas you are so very large I could never finish loving you. My love for you can never end"
But it was already too late.
The ashes of the letter were a memorial to our stillborn happiness
Love may come several times in a course of a lifetime
But that happiness in that cemetery could never be regained.
Submission Date Sept 11 2012
