I half-stumbled from my cabin, and made my way across the familiar and deserted beach. The sky was dimming, and I was in a hurry to take advantage of its failing light…

I was distracted by an old, horribly faded letter, whose words I had struggled to make out.

It was written in English, and I barely spoke that language aloud anymore.

But of course, I could read it. Some part of me could even detect and silently reproduce its true cadence, within my mind:

“How I feel 

You’ll never know.

Time is ticking and I feel it

Winding down.

Let me repent.

You know, we belong to each other

In a way that nobody else does.

You know I’ll drop everything for you

Again and again.

If it’s really over 

And I pushed you too far…

The joke’s on me.

Because I miss you.

Making with you.

Feeling the Sun in the city.

I think I might sleep

Through this.

I want kids.

I want a good life

With you.

I want to be strong with you

And for you.

I wanna chill hard.

And build worlds, in artistic euphoria.

Let me give back now.

I know.

Let’s do it right.

I am the one

Who loves you.

And I do understand.

Could I wake up with you

in my arms again,

And stay forever,

Before you say

“No more.”

I am still yours.

I been yours.”

I knew dinner wouldn’t make itself, so I went back inside and threw off my red robe, which always happens to land on a crumpled letter,

Which I’m then forced to snatch up, and wonder over until the next sunset,

When its cadence and author

Can no longer stay tucked away in the safety of obscurity,

And my supposed innocence can be offered up again, anew.