a letter by emeline Benoit

     dearest lou,

I sit somber with the flesh to my dying bones,

thinking of what house we had built.

 I silently think when you once fall in love with someone so deep you too die if they exist not, i today stand by your grave telling you,“though i am here, i have died a thousand times yet i stay breathing.”I exist without you.

My tears are now a desert so dry that i sit and count my breath down till i hold you in my arms.

I cannot live this life with a half self,

a half beat,

a half breath.    I love you till
eternity
surrenders her key.

 

     forever your person,       Emeline Benoit