an absense

May 26, 2012

My Dear Clara,

I find myself roosted at the feet of giants–great, ashen aspens rise up in every direction, grave markers of our faded history, and still I am unable to to bear anything but a grin. My love, I have returned to the cornerstone of touching flesh. As my fingers trail along its walls, all cracked and dry, I see a mural of hands clasped over piles of unsorted puzzle pieces. Here, I have found dwelling in the annals of our wretched, beautiful timeline To have considered passing by this landmark now seems a bitter crime, of which I can hardly forgive.

Something has taken hold of me here, on this spot of creaking cabins and humming aspens, something I do not quite recognize. It has wrought in me a certain passion, alien in nature, yet somehow familiar all the same. It as though it commands me, yet frees me from the fetters and knots upon my mind. My merest whims seem as though they have clamored a certain holiness, though I am not a religious man.

As I gazed upon the shadow blasted wall you thrust me against with such shameless abandon and fervor in that year gone by, the very same undignified glee gripped me with iron tendrils. I rushed down the mountainside, falling twice, splitting open the skin of my shins and knees. The pain fell silent within the moment of my resume, though, and thus I pushed on until I reached the town once more. Procuring food for the evening and a set of paints and inks I returned to the cabin. I felt myself fade into a brief oblivion as my hands began to move, and when I resurfaced out of the miasma of mind, I saw, splattered upon the wall in crisp detail, the piece of the puzzle we never could find. I had near forgotten we had left it incomplete on the floor of that church that day, lonely and gathering dust.

I cannot help but admire that missing puzzle piece, that little wave washing our paper boat astray.

All these untapped desires, these paintings and laughs, had sunken in teeth and wrapped me in their ribbons, though I fear the marionette strings are beginning to come loose, looser still even as I pen this letter.