Dear Vivienne,
this will never be easy, so bear with me
they all claim it, how my face has defied time. i would like to believe it has been waiting for a certain hand, like your fingers for whom it would cast its mask to witness the sun rise and fall, know darkness and light, endure heat and cold, welcome the lines traced like roadmaps to some distant and almost impossible happiness.
but until there will be words, there will only be your silence. even when i bask under your gaze, it will be cold without that smile. every time you speak my name i wish it was a like prayer.
godless as i am
everything is different without you here: the night sky seems to be in quiet pain and not the same as the one you see tonight. even the darkness and the cold seems to have discovered a sleep like stone buried deep, so unlike when you were beside me; fragile and soft as the summer breeze that could never rival you in your warmth. even the city seems strange; still, sullen and lifeless, too much noise and noise and noise when before i could always navigate my way through its dirty maze because there always was your voice.
until there will be, there is only nothing. i confess, despite my woes and my shame, after all the tears and blood washed out for me to keep my name, i know i am good.
but not good enough. never good enough.
yet still i will partake of what is freely offered, crumbs as they may be, falling or dusted off from the banquet, from the lifetime of a feast celebrated with you and in your name.
i write you these letters though i know not if you can even read them. i know, i am still to possess full powers, and so i wonder if their awkward step could even reach you. but i wish to tell you, of how beautiful it was when first you found me. of how, through the years and distance and silence, the changing of seasons, in the midst of life and dying, you remembered this name that i chose for myself. and yes, it falls on me, because i chose to reveal myself to you, because you called me by that name, the name your tongue and lips know, the name to whom my ears quiver when you speak it, the quiver that becomes a ripple that trigger key points of mad dreams and fool’s hope raging like wildfire, exploding dormant volcanoes in my heart, the crash of the waves against my skin, laced with the flash of thunder and lightning coursing through each and every vein.
oh yes i am crazy. for you.
yet through all of this, i know: there is only never between us. and there will always be never, until…
…until there is.