imagine

letter to an angel i could not have imagined it. this is not the first time that this happens. i plod along in my seemingly meaningless life, and then there is a call from you. you call, you express yourself and i listen. this happens: we hold hands, we sleep, we eat, we love. yet there is something that i have learned during the past weeks away from that which is not yet routine, yet begs to become routine: the writing, the expression, the exploration, the weaving and the synthesis of so much that we share and experience. imagine that i spend one week in that place where we often had dinner together and i listened to you and your struggles. there, in the hectic of that city that we love and hate, there i did not think of you, yet you were constantly present. imagine the freedom that we share in having each other's incomprehensible touch being experienced throughout time and space. imagine! imagine ecstasy, and imagine the fear. imagine it all. want nothing. not you. not me. just nothing at all, imagine!