Love letter to nowhere

I would never have summoned the courage to pen these lines, raw and trembling,
If not for the precipice we now teeter upon, gazing into the void of its lifeless gaze.
I have never mirrored your essence, yet here I stand,
Peering into your reflection, a haunting echo of what I could be.
It would hardly flatter your spirit,
But isn’t it a sorrowful truth to cradle in your delicate hands
The shattered shards of another’s hidden anguish,
Like glimmering fragments of despair?..

The light dances fleetingly along the jagged stone edges,
Dripping down the cavernous walls, a molten gold,
Where you, inscribed with initials of Jesus Christ, dissolve into the softening dusk.
A gentle sweep of fingers, the enchantment of eternally artistic hands.

The pulse of music, guiding us through the ages,
Back through the eons—to our ancestors, to the very core of existence.

Recall those endless Sunday afternoons, just us two,
Time joyfully stretched between four and six.
You shared marvelous little stories from the past,
Always striking right to the heart with your choice of music and poetry:
Each note a rare melody, each word a soft caress.
I lingered in dreams, counting the days,
Yearning for the echo of your unforgettable voice once more.

You gently guided me through the thorns,
To constellations born from past sorrow,
Through the faded ashes of lost love,
To a pure solace found in sounds and whispers, not in words.
This eternal memory, a delicate fragility,
A crystal resting in the depths of a weary soul,
Where only you, only you, only you can still resonate.

I lost myself in house music beats through the night,
And through the day: I patiently awaited your return.
One last plea: linger here a moment longer—just for me.
Be my teacher or my redeemer, my guide or my prophet,
The greatest sin, a fleeting dream, a moment of awakening, a lover,
Or perhaps an immortal beloved...
Or simply the radiant light in the shadows, as you have always been.
Be my angel, my torchbearer, transforming the mundane into the profound.

This sensation, elusive, dances on the edge of words—perhaps it’s a longing?
Yes, a longing to melt into you, to intertwine as your breath,
Your tears, the shimmering spark in your gaze at the height of bliss.
You whispered once, a promise to ignite my cigarette with a fallen star.
I want to cradle the thought that you plucked it from the heavens for me.
Even if it’s just a sweet deception, a tender untruth,
How intoxicating, how deliciously sensual yet soft...

Prometheus once bore fire in his heart to gift it to the lost.
I ask but one thing: take my heart, take it now, very carefully.
Let it continue to bleed. Your warmth will soon embrace it.
Then lift my heart high above, like a sacred flame!..

[2020/2025]