Peach Tree Purgatory

I thought I knew your face. I thought I knew every inch, but every time I look at you, I see something new, something precious…and something wonderful.

 

I can’t even begin to tell you how special I think you are. You are an anomaly of life that makes me feel completely bewildered but somehow simultaneously at ease, like a lost daisy growing atop a mountain.

 

The thing I love about it is that you don’t have to try. You live and I learn; maybe that’s why we work so well together. Nevertheless, you are wrapped inside my mind, protecting it and my soul from hitting the walls too hard. And although I love you like a rose, too gentle to touch, I cherish the fact that you could hurt me so. What a lovely lovely thought that is, to be hurt by you, to feel you deep inside my heart and truly know what a splendid job you did of digging my grave. I have lived in your love and died in your doctrine. In your garden I wait, beneath your terrace but above the law.

 

I’m alone, but I love being alone, so much so that I decided to stay, alone, here, in our little peach tree purgatory.

 

 


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