by Sarah Preston

Created on: January 22, 2009

A love letter

Is there room for me? I manage this soft whisper to Simon, hoping the kiss of air I've sent him finds its place against the soft crook of his smile.

At 12:13 in the morning, the night air sits quietly against my cheek as my tears run along the base of my jaw, carving a path through my skin like shards of steel, tainted with my pain and covered in my love. My mind has been violated, filled with the empty promises that you had whispered when the moon was full and our stars glistened against the black of the sky. I'm drowning in a sorrow that lays heavy on my soul, while I study your motions that waver through the glass, like a dancer who is balancing at the edge of love and unknowing. The branches of the willow before me sway with your graceful movements, breaking open to the silent beat of the music, so that I can see you.

The night sky is a thick blanket above my head - the moon the pillow that welcomes my weak muscles. Aching has become a recurring emotional pain that I embrace, because without it I feel nothing. My skin is dead and insensate as the blade finds its way to veins that carry life, an atlas of blue that begs to be released. The love I have for you spills across me, dampening the layers that were once protected by you, now open for the world to reject.

The car door creaks as I make my exit, shouting to the universe that there is movement below and you stop dancing, staring blankly ahead at the belly of the darkness that surrounds us. You move toward me, causing me to quickly dart behind the sturdy wall of a maple, bracing the pads of my fingers deeply into the skin of the mighty tree, wishing it would split itself and wrap me in its protection. I stand motionless as my mind races, wondering if you'll be happy to see me.

We are love.

I smile at these words as they drift me in and out of conciseness, and work their way around my scars.

I slowly peek around the bark of the tree, hoping to catch another glimpse of your perfection, and am once again utterly disappointed when I see nothing but the empty space where your body once stood. The thought of your skin against mine revives me, reminding me that I am still alive and gives me reason to hope. There will always be room for you in my heart, space that can never be filled by another and I tell you this, to remind you of your vow to me.

Leaving the sanctity of the tree, I find myself winding down a walkway, gliding on memories I had forgotten existed. Do you remember the last time we danced

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