Letter, in a bottle

Water under the bridge, time washes away everything, moving without returns; in the ends, all coming to dusts; But why, and How is that, years after year, you are still taking away my every breath? Is that true, something is for life?
Walking on the street suddenly stood still; something punched my heart, heavily breath like old man. There was someone passing by, a stranger in the crowds, was wearing D’Issey Miyaki, or something alike. For just a second, I couldn’t hold it anymore; I knew I can’t pretend it has gone; it never gone, not even a tiny dwindles washed by time… It’s too cruel to me but I have to admit, this is my soul origin, the source of all my passion. A pity sad soul, it’s too personal to be read by others, to be understood by even the closest friends; it doesn’t fit any logical path; perhaps, it could be only looked up in poems. It’s an ultimate pain, though, full with love, passion and the gentlest touches… It takes a tremendous courage to facing, yet draws my tear dry and slowly kill my heart. And yet, it’s been there, and it is the truth. No matter how would I pretend it doesn’t matters anymore; While, in the dark of a quiet night, at front of grant mountains, facing heartfelt sun falls, at a gentle encounter with morning dews, or in the moment of orgasmic music playing, and by the time I have to stood in front of God… I can’t deny, my darling, you are indeed my immortal beloved.

A letter to an Angel, in the bottle, floating in the shadow of my soul…