2 minute read

Usha N. Shrinivaasun

They will talk about us, when dawn has bitten the harvest of flames, after the pain has sated and the last prayer reached the after

they will talk about us, when the blue has gathered our limbs, after the blood has washed the day and the rubble saved the last color of things.

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As kisses we will bloom behind the infinity, between the wind and the word, where beauty is not in a hurry.

It was a Tuesday in September, or slowly and imperceptibly it was.

He waited for me

Usha N. Shrinivaasun Lived I in an old fashioned village of Shropshire Where each house had a letter box on its frontier Where the postman would drop.our mail into its depths And later we would retreive it from.its post box red containers wefts

A score of years passed and to.the city my husband and I did migrate Retired from my job and with my husband dead back to the village I did relate That day the postman had dropped the mail a letter had got caught in a the mail box So I had to.dig it out and so I opened the locks

Along with the stuck mail another letter yellowed with age surfaced

Surprised I opened the letter dated twenty years based

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It was a letter from Brian who those days wantef me as his consort As he proposed on his knees with a single red rose store bought

Now for the letter and its contents I wanted to see With trepidation I.opened it and wondered what it might be It said " My dearest darling my only love Emily I love you to distraction and do you love me

I think not as you are about to become anothers wife I wish you well my dear be happy forever without strife May you always acheive whatever you wanted from.life Even though in my heart turns a knife

You memories are enough to.pull me through If ever in.your life you need me come to me, you In my heart a picture of you I drew And that forever will give me solace true"

Shocked but not unpleasantly so To the address given I did go There he was Brian as tall.and lanky as he was a score of years ago Recognized me immediately and with a loving glow Held out his hands and I rushed Into them all aglow

He had been waiting for me all along unmarried in his mind he had wedded me indeed An un opened letter has such a tale to tell and our mind to feed And in uniting a lost love it did succeed