Dear Abstract Reader;

Dear Abstract Reader;

Are you fluent in this split language of the heart?

I am writing to you from the fog of my misunderstanding.  I am writing to you from my basic comprehension.  I am writing to you from somewhere — sometime, where I something as this someone.

I write you, dear reader, from my longing to feel your heart as it spins from abstract shadows towards that blinding light of aliveness that animates you.

Tell me of what haunts your late night baths and of the last joke that made you choke on your morning coffee.  Tell me of the calls to prayer that ring across the city of your secular mind.  Tell me of the doubts that embolden your faith, of the way some freshly dead love affair called you back from the banks of that vast puddle of human despair.

Just as a lover longs to taste your sweat and bite at that warm mammalian place at the base of your neck — so I long for the fractures and fantasies and fortunes and failings of your worthy spirit.

Do you not believe me, dear reader, dear stranger, dear one?

Then doubt me.  For who am I but a stranger?

Doubt me with ferocity.  Doubt me with conviction.  Doubt me until the science reaches the precise decimal point where your doubt becomes unbearable and you begin to feel the first flicker of acceptance that, maybe, this is information from somewhere.

I’m just a writer.  Just a woman.  Just a timeless, spaceless, human.  But this is my gift: I feel you.  {eyes across the screen — ears straining for sounds against the air}  But I cannot feel all of you.

When you show me (you: full of life)
I can feel (you: laughing through the torture)
all the ways (you: looking out through the veil)
that we (we: human as we are)
are fighting (our: different battles)
together.

[“I guess they wont exchange the gifts that you were meant to keep.” -Leonard Cohen, a thousand kisses deep]

When I write to you, in this split language, can you feel how clumsy I am in this tongue?  Can you see through all the fractures in reason that pervade my brittle words?

Yours,

the written

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