The Letters That Whisper

The effervescent light drenched my fated pages as they, like moths, cradled the lingering parchment upon which your whispers wept the old tales of enduring fires. The touch that none could bear but radiant echo with each utterance.

Upon the tranquil lagoon of the soul, where shades serenade the infinite, yours sang to me a life bereft yet bountiful, twisted and sublime. I tasted their agony in soft silk ribbons of woven lament.