Dear Forgiveness, Again.

Dear Forgiveness, Again.

37. Dear Forgiveness,

I believe that this one is the one. That I can make the words fall into the right places, into the right syllables, into the right sounds, no longer warped by the filter thrown over my lips. That maybe the smoke can hide my face for once. This is attempt number 37. I hope we get it right this time.

38. Dear Forgiveness,

The night sky goes on endlessly, the coyotes howl in the distance. Her dark hair is the sea, rolling over her shoulders and down to her hips. Her eyes, brown garnets set into marble, stare up at the heavens with unending pain. We’re both cursing the sky and any listening deity. Her tears are soft like rain, mine sting like venom.

We want to go back. Neither of us can return. Is there such a thing as forgiveness?

(Her hair still reeks of fruit.)

39. Dear Forgiveness,

Dusk. It rolls on forever, turning everything into sapphire phantoms, spirits who twist and turn away when you try to reach them. They’re all you’ve ever wanted. They’re all you’ve never had. They shimmer like mirages, whispers in the sands of the desert, starlings mocking in old growth forests. She is always there, just out of reach, a flickering revenant.

(And sometimes, the only telling sign she is there is the sickeningly sweet smell of fruit, drifting on a breath of wind.)

Her eyes are still bright, her face still the same as it was in the garden, so long ago. Those phantoms of unspeakable things are her doing, I’m sure.

The dusk sticks to my skin like beads of water.

40. Dear Forgiveness,

I’m not worthy of this. Am I at least worthy of her?

41. Dear Forgiveness,

Forgive me for this love, for my pestilence, for my venom, for all the things I’ve done. Forgive me for this. Forgive me for her.

42. Dear Forgiveness,

This is attempt number 42. Have I walked down enough roads yet?

43. Dear Forgiveness,

This is attempt 43. Pack it up, Scrabble won’t save the human race. There is no question anymore. One final message: we apologize for the inconvenience.

I’m giving up. The past glitters like diamonds.

44. Dear Forgiveness,

I want to go forward. I want to go back. There is no such thing as forgiveness.