|Today let me share the knotty breeze blowing through the holes in my umbrella, twisting and turning as it chases the light away. I'll write about the gaps in the ocean, knocking and ringing throughout the vast expanse of nothing that it calls home. Spare me a moment my dear, let me tell you of the paths the elephants wander, the way they cry for those they have lost; come closer, let me whisper in your ear the tale of the bird that thought it could fly, even though it had only half a wing.
I would like to serve you up a slice of my life; I'll make it look pretty, like I have accomplished something in my time here. I could retell the way the clouds float emptily through the barren sky, how they wait for the conditions to be right before they release themselves. I want to tell you that this is silly; they should just be free.
My darling, tomorrow perhaps I will put you in the gaps I have missed here; maybe tomorrow I will be strong enough to talk of you. I will be able to share the way your hair flickered in the sun, the number of freckles you had on your nose, but not today. Tomorrow, maybe.
Do you want to hear of the cat? I heard he wanted to jump to the highest post of the tallest tree, I heard he was fearless; he would never look down, nor think of looking down. My dear, is that not a charming idea? He could take off like a bee, flit around peoples picnics and attract all the hate in the world until somebody did the kind thing and swiped him with a fly swot; they're pests, aren't they? The bee could fall to the ground like a worm; he could burrow and hide until the morning birds pull him up, for after all my lovely, the early bird gets the worm. The bird could spring from the ground and never look back; build his home in the tree where the cat sits.
Yes, perhaps tomorrow I will fill in the holes in my life; mix up the solution like cement and block up the bits that let the water through; but until I do, my dear, remember the things around the holes in my story for I know one day we can complete it together.
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