Love Letter, Love Letter

This was my entry in The Walrus Magazine's Love Letter contest held earlier this year. Though I certainly didn't win, I'm entertained by my entry and I thought there might be a couple other people out there who possibly would be, too. So, here it is. I mean, what's not to love about VERTICAL TEXT, right?! Also, there are almost 30 flower names hidden in there; some are obvious, others not so much. See if you can find them all!!! And do try to enjoy.




Beloved G—

You urged me, you said “Forget me not,” you sighed and embraced me and I said,
Overcome by your suggestion (overcome and my love lying bleeding), “Forget you?
Unthinkable; unimaginable. Never.” To this I now need to add, behind written word:

As you entered my life so did my love for you blossom; you lifted me and secured me; I
Rose, opening, to you, to Helios’ trope. You are potent, illecebrous; your beauty,
Enchanting, as still beats on my bleeding heart, steals my breath, roots me, grounds me.

The sunflower follows the sun’s passage; the planets in the cosmos chart their
Heliolatrous revolutions. So I follow you, so I find you in the centre of my life, an
Eternally present ache in the sea of my yearning for your wished area. You daze me.

Feelings of bliss course through me when I kiss your two lips of violet ardour; a bliss so
Lush, so deeplyrooted and as high as enthralling memories and moments and memories
Of you and me and you and especially us. Memories that circle and hold close, clutch,
Whisper their married, golden truths and splendours to me; moments which, in their
Eager impatience, leave me breathless, render me silent, force me to my knees in
Reverential obeisance, leaving me wishing I could speak, wishing I could convey to you
In unguarded words, what I feel. Alone in these thoughts, I watch the zephyr and these
Nimble leaves it caresses and remember the spring of us and the ringing blue bells: our
Greedy passion.

Our greedy passion is alive and alight; is engrossing, engraved in us; honeyed, suckling:
For our love flowers on, nurtured in the rich soil that is you, that is me, that is us.

My heart, my mind, my very being yearn to be near you, to twine with you, to vine with
You; to sublimate myself in your core—we obsess over our union.

Perhaps I strive too loftily in my words, perhaps I should laugh or kid, turn from the
Austere, free the absolute sense of my words; but weight is my write and, to me, this is a
Serious, solemn serenade—my paean we can sing together. In all my sense, in all the
Science of my words, I never forget, I never diminish the simplicity, the purity of us:
I love the times when we lie locked together, you in your morning glory, I in lupine
Overindulgence, united in comfort—a marred and thus sweet peace. This simple unity of
Notion, intention and selves suffuses—IS—our essence and we are our all.

In the blossom of eternal love,
D—