For now

You have already left the country, to take your chances in the desert in an entirely different continent. While that sounds like a romantic adventure, you made me understand that it isn’t. Life has not been kind to you, and you have not been kind to yourself. Thus, in the spaces between then and now, you have managed to weave a long, narrow, and very thorny path towards your own redemption.

The night before you left, we went to the store to test and pick up your brother's electric guitar. We didn't think of taking any photos, busy as we were making our last hours together count, so my last photo of you is only this, you standing on the curb, carrying that same electric guitar, taken while I was speeding away in a taxi to go where I needed to be.

Go, too, where you need to be, my love. I’ll see you on Skype everyday for the next two years or so. May all your dreams come true.

You touch me

and I radiate with music. The universe of words that have always been a big part of my life melt into a swirling vortex of melodies that envelope me with wind and time. When I am with you it is always both night and day, darkness and light crashing towards each other with enough force to create endlessness.

Why do you come to me when I thought I had already lost you to a long-departed youth? I don’t know; I don’t need to know. But you are here now, and in your hands I am a guitar. With your strums I disappear into something that only you can hear.

[Image credit]