Writing Letters [completed // editing]

| letter three september 12 1999 | *

**EDITED**

"When the power of love overcomes the love power, the world will know peace."

                                  ~jimi hendrix

Dear Angel,

It's been over a week since we last saw each other. And yet, I can't help myself of thinking of you. Your arrogant smirk, the way you laugh when I grimace over a particularly embarresing memory. But do you remember the day before I sent you my last letter, the 29th? There was a poetry reading at that small cafe downtown (where we met properly), the one you say is just a 'dinky little dip-shit cafe' but I know you secretly love it. After all you were at that poetry reading. I was there with my boyfriend, Gage, when I spotted you. Gage had gone to get another cup of coffee, and that's when I saw you.

Eyes focused only on the reader, posture relaxed, small smile. You were, and are, the epitome of someone who is trying to deny themselves of who they actually are. I walked over to you, a small smile on my face.

"Great, isn't it," I said, pulling you out of your reverie. Do you remember the look on my face, as I laughed at you? You jumped, spilling your tea all over my new blouse.

"Hm," I said, a teasing glint in my eye. "Every time we meet, you spill a fragrant drink on me," I said, laughing at the guilt in your eyes.

Even though we've only seen each other only two times, I'm starting to understand some of your facial expressions, and I realized how strange that was. You said, "Oh, baby, I can make you wet in more ways than that."

I remember throwing you a grimace, before turning around only to bump into Gage. Do you remember the way he stared at you, rage clear in his eyes?

I do.

As always, 

Ash