vitiligo

Dear K-

You have forgotten me. You have let the memory of me slip to the far peripheral precipice of your temporal cortex, to be lost among the other overlooked moments and stranded images. It’s not dark here. In fact, it’s not really what I expected at all. There’s a warmness to it, and a dim but reassuring illumination, as if even in the discarded remnants of your conscious you couldn’t bear to encourage a feeling of complete abandonment.

But my sighs linger here, floating in the empty cavern like tiny ghosts looking for someone to talk to, something familiar. I stretch the hours between my fingers as if it were a game of cat’s cradle, waiting for a spark of inspiration.

I take consolation in the knowledge that you’ve been busy. I want you to be happy, even if that means I’m not involved. If it takes forgetting these silly letters to make you happy, then so be it.

All the best,
-K