The Tin-Roofed Ruin

Everything else is a lie beside what I've found in touching you. The world will never know how much quality time we steal when you and I draw close! Only we two know that. We are the world's finest pair of peace. Neither of us holds the other captive, and yet we both remain caught, utterly caught in each other.

If you sit alone and think of me once, you'll feel how much space you occupy in me. No, don't think about it—you'll come undone completely. I want to tell a thousand stories about you, which is why I chose your dearest friend; I couldn't bear to lose you, so I imagined her becoming your wife. I am yours, and I will remain yours. I cannot bear to see you unsettled.

Every time I leave you, fear takes hold—will we meet again? Even today, as I stepped out of that room, emptiness clung to me. I only want to live in you; grant me just that. And the whole world's peace will come to you simply by thinking of me. Love in abundance.

You once set my rust-eaten life ablaze in a single stroke. How I—drooping, withered—was coming alive with each moment of your touch, fresh and vital. Youth began to surge through my skeletal frame. In your words, your poems, your songs and your writing, I was transforming within, becoming a new self in your presence.

You once asked me, how do you love me so much? You fool, I am fashioned from a small white fragment of your own heart. Who else could love you the way I do? You exist in my entire being! When we met after more than two years, we were exactly as we had always been together. It felt as though only a week had passed. Tell me, can two souls ever fit so perfectly unless they share one heart?

I've heard that missing someone you love can stop your breath on this side of things. Do you feel, on your side, how madly I think of you, how deeply I love you?

You are like my broken-down, corrugated-tin house!