by Katski

Let me write you a letter you deserve,
filled with words that reveal what’s in my heart.
Designed to make you feel how I see you,
and how glad I am at the accident of you and I.

My dearest mine,
do you know you make me feel beautiful? Soft and delicious and warm and insatiable? Hungry and filled and unsettled and giddy and bored and mad and all that is happy?
You have been constant and persistent, and wonderfully hell-bent on me.
Just me.

My dearest mine,
do you know you make me feel like a goddess? Wanton and without shame.
You make me feel wonderful…no, more, that I am filled with wonder;
and fill you with the same.

You make me feel I deserve the conceit with which I live my life.
You make me feel good about myself, you make me feel you could be right.

Right about this, about me, about us, about all that which I’m not certain.
You make me feel safe.
You’ve made it alright to be feeling.


You ask me to hold your heart, and I am terrified of your trust.
And though I can’t give you mine, you say my hand is enough.

My dearest mine,
you know you don’t say much, but when you do, unexpectedly,
something inside me melts.

Some things inside me melt.
A bit of the fear, of what a future with you brings;
a bit of the rage, from the ghosts of my past haunting;
a bit of the uncertainty,
of who you are and might be to me.
Some things inside me melt.

I will learn to make do with your wordlessness, knowing it doesn’t mean a lack of feeling;
but a reluctance to put into words what and how your heart speaks.

Lest I bend from the sheer volume of how much you love.
And oh, how you love.

Yours in a hopeful universe,