Love letters that never leave the page
seeing no on there looking upon your stage.
The faded photographs lining the shoe box of memory
waiting and dreaming away into a midnight fantasy.
The blind groping for that one tangible sight
like the dark longing for the morning light.
Writing a letter to remind myself of this adoration
and how you seem to fill my life with admiration.
You name spelled on my lips in bliss
and it seems for your love I've come to miss.
I know that love is a best tested virtue
where you fulfill the prophecy by being true.
You speak it to yourself in mysterious ways
and try and make it through the hard days.
You scream but you lose it in your mental notes
while away in another world your heart floats...
You dream back to bliss and to all the things you miss
and you no one will ever come even close to a sliver of this.
Will anyone ever bask in the glowing presence of your touch
since it seems I've come to miss it, just too much..
I look upon my past and I've done the math
and can see this tattered path.
I know that what I had will be a landmark
onto my reality which has become so dark.
You make it all the worthwhile.
You make me have the courage to smile.
You make me want to be more than I am.
You sleep with the lions and the lamb.
You know yourself and what to do
and you never told me that one clue.
The clue to who I was to you.
What you needed and what you knew.
The precious things that bleed onto our souls.
All the broken sirens and the ragged controls.
All the water dripping like rain in the night
while you still try to grasp on so tight.
You know where to keep those faded photographs
since you've always known our twisted paths.
You know to keep that memory for a better day
and you always seem to know the right thing to say.
Maybe I'm the fool for never understanding why
since it seems I'll never know till I die..
So wash this love and call it clean
and know all the things to mean.
Know now and forever that I only need one thing.
You.
Know that ever word and promise I made is...
True.
So keep these faded precious things when the icicle forms on the sill
and come and visit me, you know the place, up on the hill..

10/20/2003

Posted on 10/20/2003
Copyright © 2024 Aaron Howard