A letter from behind enemy lines

Hello my darling

I’m not sure whether these may be my last words

Maybe a stranger picked up a bag full of letters and started reading this one

That’s okay, for my words are meant to be read

But it would be best if it could be you

I remember now those walks we took

On trouble-free sands

While the comforting waves tickled our shy toes

And our fingers were locked together in passion

Now my feet are submerged in watery mud

And my fingers hug death itself

I’ve tasted of the tree of good and evil

I’m utterly dismayed

For my wavering eyes now see no difference

At least my heart remains under the water of your love

Don’t forget me, my darling

Please water my lemon tree

I’m encouraged, believing that it has new leaves

I promise to make us lemonade this Christmas

If the rumours I hear are true

But if not, if these weary eyes

Will not see your captivating face again

Then know that my last one thousand thoughts

Were of me,

And you

In love.

Good bye, my darling.