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Dear Kayla, You didn’t respond to my last letter, which I understand, because you think we’ve never met. You’re wrong. I could bore you with the details, but for now just trust that I know you.
In every way one person can know another, I know you.
I know the sight, sound, taste, and smell of you.
I know your darkest darks and your lightest lights.
I know your dreams, your nightmares, and every secret you’ve ever kept hidden, all those nameless desires you never admitted even
to yourself.
I know the shape of your soul.
I know your hands tremble as you read these words, and your heart beats as fast as a hummingbird’s wings. I know you want to tear this letter up, and I also know you won’t.
How I need to touch you. How I need to hear your voice. I can’t, of course, because I’m here and you’re there, but the distance
doesn’t make the longing go away.
I can still taste your skin.
Dante
