(peter to L.) a letter

My dearest L.,

It is 6:35 now in the am. I have just finished my third reading of 'at the brook'. I am staggered and I have poured out, without the rock in the middle of my brook. It rushes through me already a part of great tributaries that is my love for you. Your writing has been so very important to me L. I have laid in the sweet grass reading you for some time. I have seen you naked and have not felt shame but more wonder of how am I to have this gift of your beauty before me. Your words, naked and raw of pain and beauty have brought me to my knees at other times too. But, but now with our upcoming reuniting I feel so humble in front of you, almost unworthy.

The love you have given me dear L., how may I explain this. Your spirit given to me so freely precious like a tiny fragile powder blue egg with a life inside, a real life, an important life as an ancient dinosaur egg hatching a million years after conception. I feel I am the dinosaur waking to a world of you in forests, in towns, big cities, of riding trains and swells of great oceans. You show me a great new life in a new age. Your body, I worship at altar like the last star ever seen by man himself. That star which is you will light the dark nights of alone and still be there at daybreak and through the day. I remember seeing a star in the middle of the day as a child. Have you seen one? I stood and watched it, it pale and strong at the same time, but very present. This is you.

We are to be together. I have not been, until now. You have sat on the egg for ninety three years. It is time we live and watch stars in the summer sun, bathe in brooks, care for one an other. And love, we will love fierce and gentle our bodies so connected to touch and taste through our trusting minds. A first, unconditional,
unconditional.

~peter.