INTIMATE LETTERS
(An epistolary story)
Between my love and I it have to rise
three hundred ,yes,three hundred nights as walls,
and the ocean will be a magic between us.
There will be nothing,but rather memories.
Oh afternoons earned with the pain,,
nights hoping for to see you,
fields of my way, firmament
that I'm watching and losing ...
Definitive ,like a marble,
your absence will bemoan in other afternoons.
three hundred ,yes,three hundred nights as walls,
and the ocean will be a magic between us.
There will be nothing,but rather memories.
Oh afternoons earned with the pain,,
nights hoping for to see you,
fields of my way, firmament
that I'm watching and losing ...
Definitive ,like a marble,
your absence will bemoan in other afternoons.
(Jorge Luis Borges-Argentine poet and writer-:Absence and
Farewell)
EPISTULA PRIMA
(The first letter):THE MAN WITH NO TEARS
There is a sweet
, untouchable charm in the rainy evening.The light trascends the surface of the
glass,and the raindrops,falling like the complaint of an invisible dark sky,hit on the innocent flowers,,now dry,rememebering
vaguely that there was a time of
spring.
It is late
autumn,however.I am staying here,standing here,besides the solitude of the
park,hidden in the obscurity,watching,waiting,screaming by inside,all the cries
that were muted have been changed in shame.
You…you are
behind the crystals,perhaps with your
lover,in that warm quietude,so tepid,and soaked by the one million drops love
has sparkled somewhere:like a forbidden
dew,bathing the souvenir of what could have been,and what was not.
You stay,perchance,
under the severe glance of those black iron
eyes,cruel,so cruel as the mine…but blessed,institutionalized by the
law.
What is the law?
I never knew.
The law is what
impeded me to grow up aloof of insanity,and gave me the “blessing” of to be
hurt,wounded,abused,destroyed?
That is what
mankind uses to call”the law”?
If it is so,I am
against it.I have chosen.And I have chosen because I knew,and I know,that some
of us were born cursed by an unfathomable malediction,that is and will be
always unceasing,and,perhaps, eternal.
Your
lover,surely, kisses you,and the hypothetical kiss stabs me deeply in my
chest,just in the middle of the old scared traces,making them more profound,and
this new invisible bleeding wound aches like a hell.
The curtains are
open.,and I can sight you.I can see you,imagining however the nudity of your skinny elegant
figure,.so fine and exquisitely conformed,lying down, with the aspect,with the
features of a classical sculpture.
Keep me
away,you,whom are named “ my ultimate,definitive pain”.I never could reach you
not even in a dream…because it would
become a nightmare.So,I call you “my pain”,because it is so,and it must
necessarily be so.
You and your
lover,indeed.Talking,smiling,caressing,with no care about the rest of this world,a
world that will end so soon for one like me.
I am.. a
beggar.One whom stays at the desolated door ,waiting for his alms.
Alms for the
poor…Alms for the unfortunate unwanted son whom has been born from
the terrible marriage between
the disgrace and the horror..
I am the eternal
stranger,the sempiternal foreigner in all the realms.
And you,blessed
by beauty,by a cheerful mood,by one thousand…by one million talents.,will be
the adored prince in a distant ivory
tower.
But…I am
proud.Proud of my misfortune,proud of my multiple wounds,proud of my fierce
decision.
It is so cold
here,outside…so cold…so dark…A gloomy wind shakes the body of the lonely
trees,that,as indefense corpses,incline their last leaves for to bow before my
presence.
You can forebode
something in the shadows,but I cannot get away from my own obscurity.
However,from
my gloomy grief that is more than
endless,I can say..no..I can be sure !!only of something:if God were able to
help one like me,He would send an angel with your innocent features,the most
beautiful ones that these eyes of mine(eyes that will be soon devoured by the
grave)have ever seen.
Please,do not be
afraid of to open this dark envelope.
I want you
knowing what I feel,even if I cannot reveal,for now,who I am,who I was,who I
will be.
Yours,devoted,inconditional
F..
The reply:
Distinguished
Sir:
I am not used to
quick responses.However,I felt the necessity of to let very clear that I am not
in the disposal of to accept any type of encounter between us.Please,understand
this:because of the work I usually do(my job is not what one could call”a simple common one”),I have become a bit
paranoid in some of my daily attitudes.
I have no idea
who you are,not even if you really know me in person,or perhaps you suffer of
some kind of strange hallucination.
Do not be ashamed
of this:I have suffered these symptoms myslef,due to the incidencies of my hard
and compromising daily work
Understand,please,also,that
I am only twenty eight years old,and I
have carried a burden upon my shoulders that perhaps nobody else could have
done.
Yes,it is said I
am a genius:but this makes me absolultely a solitary.
Yes,people use to
say I am beautiful,handsome…but I dislike to be touched,caressed,embraced….
Notwithstanding,yes,I
must say….I am in a relationship.A delicate matter,indeed,since my lover is
also someone of a high elevated cathegory in the place where I work..
I could never
thought of to have a furtive encounter with somebody else,despite how much my
flesh could beg for a new relief..I usually never confess these things to
anybody,but,in a certain way,you inspire me some sort of strange
confidence,since you are a faceless presence….
(TO BE CONTINUED)
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