I swear I can feel you. Even apart. Feel your breath on my neck, the ache I get when you’re near and I am not touching some part of you. Its not need, to be clear, its desire. When my, our foundations shook and we lost our way and our paths took us in indifferent directions, when the muddy waters had cleared from the disturbance, all I could see, in the crystal clear waters I held to my lips as the droplets fell, was you, reflected, shivering on every momentarily still surface.

Your intellect and beauty pull me up, your kindness softens my edges and makes me courageous for the fall, your touch stirs circles in my blood and excited every sense, I am more alive in your sight, inspired by your quiet dignity and elegance. It is all so clear to me now, simple.

The plane has finished climbing, we are on time. It’s quiet, not half full. I can’t see the moon any more, so I am listening to my iPod on low, my eyes closing against the harsh light they flood you with, this pen and paper on my knee.

I wonder how many love notes have been composed over time. I wonder what keeps people apart, more so, what draws them back together. What heals the breach, what “matter” is substantial enough to build upon, what scar tissue adaptive enough to allow continued productive usage. What injuries can not only heal but regain function, superseding their previous ability. They say your weaknesses are the source of your strength, and I think, contemplating mine, some of mine, I believe this to be true. Of course conversely, reversing this philosophy is undeniable too.

The pen feels heavier in my palm, my writing slows as my mind drifts, it floats to you. As I fly across this cold night sky at altitude and speed, I grow warm and at rest thinking of you. Home is in your arms, your smell, your soft skin, the feel of your hair against me, your voice in my ear, the weight of you against me…….glorious, sacred, wonderful you.

I am going to send this to you, for no sensible reason other than; I would like you to know the intimate claim you have upon me, always.