Your letters are your heart song and I hear them every day.
Light reflects upon your ink as if were your smile, and I feel my heart jump as if it were so, as if you were right here at last.
This letter is on two cent paper but the words are without price. Everything you say is music to me, no matter the words, no matter the topic... because it came from your mind and flowed down your arm to the pen that would otherwise rest lazily upon the table.
The letter has so many crease lines, all of them fluffy to the outside from so many times being folded and unfolded. Likewise, the paper is soft to the touch, the blue ink has run but only slightly. Monica's eyes caress the strokes of the pen made so many years ago, seeing the personality behind the strong lines and heavy punctuation marks.
I touch the letter as if you could step through the page and into my arms, and in away, with your words, you do.
I hold the letter to my face as if the ink carried your heartbeat, taking in the aroma that lingers from your touch.
The love letter is so underrated. They take courage to write and so are incredibly elevating to read; for to render yourself so emotionally naked is a profound act of love.
It is not the beauty of your lyric, yet the fact that you took the time to write a letter, that stole my heart and freed my soul.