I have a love for a woman, which is pretty conventional. I would almost say that our particular love is unconventional, but maybe I and we are not as unique as I would like to think. Perhaps our love is typical. It is a star-cross'd love to be sure. It has been a long story and it will go on for much longer than this chapter here. So we have a complex love story, but that is I suppose fairly conventional. Then I wrote her a love letter, but the way I wrote the letter, and the way I gave it to her I think is pretty unconventional. See my completion of The Beautiful Letter
to see how I expressed my love unconventionally.
Because it's not written out clearly over there, this is my letter to her. Seen here together, numbered so you can see how the letter broke down street by street, block by block.
And if, perhaps you live in Los Angeles and want to find them all and have the letter unfold piece by piece then by all means, stop reading and get out there and do it.
For the rest of you:
Remember that time when we were sitting
in the park with a few stolen moments
so we could just
and let the worries of the world
Remember when the deer came out of the
brush and stood there looking at us?
Remember what that felt like?
That feeling has been
with me ever since.
I am in a state of constant amazement.
It is because of you.
You are the memory of a dream
that I’d thought I’d forgotten and then
remember halfway through my day
like a present.
There are few things that I am certain of
and one of the things that I know for sure
is that I will never grow tired of you.
I will never be bored
and I will be there to walk you to your car
at three in the morning when you’re
scared and all alone.
And here I am, the nemesis of romance
I made you unhappy once
and I’m sorry.
would have been different
if you didn’t go home,
or if I’d ignored you,
or if I’d gone to Mexico
or asked you to come look at the stars.
But things aren’t different
things are exactly how they are
and I want to change
the things that I can
and not repeat the mistakes of your past.
And I want your help.
Will you help me?
And I know you deserve better than
what you have been given.
There are so many better things for you
than to see your feelings sold as
scented candles to somebody
whose body casts no light.
Time is passing by faster every day
We’re not getting any younger
and there’s so much yet undone.
If you take my hand and lead me
down a road that leads
to all of the promises
that were ever made to me
I’ll promise to keep you young
As if my name were Ponce de León.
Sometimes when I haven’t seen you in
awhile the memory of your face changes
into a flower that is too rich for bees, they
can’t afford it and their wings would
become songs and their honey
a lonely California beach town
that doesn’t show up on any maps
except the ones created
by the joining of our bodies.
I want to die
in the smell of you
While it cannot be denied that
I have love for you,
and that my love is mighty
you need to understand
like Sisyphus understands vexation
that I need you
in my life forever.
And not just in my heart.
If you were to cast me aside
you would lead me to a pain
as confusing as a translator’s convention
for a language I don’t understand.
But love is no way to treat a friend
I would hate to see your eyes
mist over like a cloudy sky
when you look at me like
wounded marble being poured
into a mold made of past abuse.
With love itching the back of my mind
like the phantom limb of an amputee
I press on into uncharted territory
like Magellan stepping off of
a familiar land
always with you
If you don’t mind
I’d like for us to be friends
like artwork and museums.
If I bring the paint
Will you bring the brush?