Letter 365

Kiss an elephant good-bye.

It is my last wish that you burn the three hundred sixty-five letters, one by one by one. Do not fear that you are burning my heart down. When I first wrote the letters, I believed they would be what remained of me after death. Now I see that what will survive of me is not my letters to you; what will survive of me is my love for you. What matters is not what is written on the page. What matters is what is written on the heart.

So burn the letters and lay their ashes on the snow at the river’s edge. When spring comes and the snow melts and the river rises, return to the banks of the river and reread my letters with eyes closed; let the words and the images wash over your body like waves. Reread the letters with your hand cupped over your ear; listen to the songs of eden. Page after page after page, fly the bird path. And maybe, maybe, you will feel something like my love for you.

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