THE LETTER
The following letter was submitted to Love Letter Lane by Kevin (part of an ongoing dialogue entitled "The Muse Conversations." This is called , "The Letter."):
How can I translate upon this page love's virtue, how is it possible to give a voice to my heart that you have so fully inebriated with laurel, how when the wind whispers it is your song it warms and plants upon my lips.
My darling, the days minutes trace your outline, every centimeter of your silhouette framed like a masterpiece, the seconds like paint keenly brush stroked upon the canvas you have so gracefully decreed to my possession. If I am to be its caretaker then I accept the honour willingly. I feel the passion swell within me, engorging every facet of my being, my mind races in circles shaped like heartbeats, fluttering your sweet name. My love time stands still and holds your hand, it writes each letter of your name with the most beautiful calligraphy ever handcrafted. You are more perfect than a rose, every petal equally proportioned and imbued with divinity. I take steps back in awe of your cherry blossom cheeks, your iridescent eyes that make me forget the minute that just swept by, and yet even there you linger. My sweetheart our flesh is interwoven, together the tapestry sheds its silk in passionate lines, every letter belonging to this union that beams with sunshine. You are the blue sky swimming, the leaves of autumn that bleed crimson kisses, the winter white of every snow angel made with love.
You are love my dear, so please do not ask me to translate love's virtue, let me just nestle upon your brow like a butterfly and soak in your radiance, let me sleep under your bedroom eyes aquamarine and dream of nothing else.
How can I translate upon this page love's virtue, how is it possible to give a voice to my heart that you have so fully inebriated with laurel, how when the wind whispers it is your song it warms and plants upon my lips.
My darling, the days minutes trace your outline, every centimeter of your silhouette framed like a masterpiece, the seconds like paint keenly brush stroked upon the canvas you have so gracefully decreed to my possession. If I am to be its caretaker then I accept the honour willingly. I feel the passion swell within me, engorging every facet of my being, my mind races in circles shaped like heartbeats, fluttering your sweet name. My love time stands still and holds your hand, it writes each letter of your name with the most beautiful calligraphy ever handcrafted. You are more perfect than a rose, every petal equally proportioned and imbued with divinity. I take steps back in awe of your cherry blossom cheeks, your iridescent eyes that make me forget the minute that just swept by, and yet even there you linger. My sweetheart our flesh is interwoven, together the tapestry sheds its silk in passionate lines, every letter belonging to this union that beams with sunshine. You are the blue sky swimming, the leaves of autumn that bleed crimson kisses, the winter white of every snow angel made with love.
You are love my dear, so please do not ask me to translate love's virtue, let me just nestle upon your brow like a butterfly and soak in your radiance, let me sleep under your bedroom eyes aquamarine and dream of nothing else.
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