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Again some of the book I penned.

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“Human existence is so fragile a thing and exposed to such dangers that I cannot love without trembling.” Simone Weil

 

Dearest Great Granddaughter

Every lover has a secret name. Not what they came into this world bearing but the name you alone know. A name that longs, aches and lingers under your skin. A small spell whispered as the sun climbs into the sky and they lay sleeping.

How does their love find you? With the slowness and ease of the waking sun or with the complex necessity of a tightrope walker? Once I named my lover Apollo. With his gilded chariot he snuffed the very stars from the sky. In my haste to love him I became a restless moth no longer able to navigate the dark.

How does their love leave you? The lover I named Poet sprawled restless words across my body. After every visit…chalked over my leg, pencilled on my right thigh, inked on my lower lip, marked on the crook of my neck – one single letter. Our open ended love affair, a whirlwind of words moist to the touch.

Choose Faraway Child, the secret name of your lover with great care. As it will bind you to a fate neither of you may know of.

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