[The first letter to Liana I never sent]
You ask me if I can live with only your soul, without your body. What body? What soul? I’m a stranger to you. Your title undermines your intent. You’ve taken not one – you’ve taken both. Your Mind and Body leave at once. What conviction in your heart remains with these faces etched on your prolific pillar lives as long as the day.
You offer a friendship burned under your light – you adorn it in mercy to convince and appease the hours needed to drift until these 6 weeks are discarded.
When the winter sun sets I see how short its hours really were. And for a moment I miss it. I understand then it was always a passing season. What creatures it drifts through it remembers, oh, so specially.
You’re right – I’m blind to what I know. And if the beautiful things are worth fighting for – I’ll have made no mistake. A beautiful friendship you said. You discarded half of it with a few nights, I’ll discard the rest with a few words.