It is inevitable that we will meet again someday. That day you will talk less and walk more silently. You will put footsteps so carefully but consciously so that it doesn’t make any squeaky noises. It will be close walking between us, but we won’t touch our fingers. It will act like we are hurting the universe by not letting us hold our hands.
On that very evening, the sky will be darker, and there will be rain. But we won’t let the rain make us wet. We won’t take a breath, we’ll hold the air inside our hearts, even though there will be a fresh cold wind sweeping over Long Bridge. It will be a story full of words, but we won’t say a word.
Our silence will be so soft and numb that we won’t feel the earth beneath us. We shall discover ourselves on the ocean of words, the ocean of words where all the papers are white and letters are white too. If we want to read we shall read, but we shan’t.
Ahead of time, I’m willing to write these to you on this black paper, when my heart is so white that I already know this much pure love we feel for each other; this is supposed to hurt.
[ Black Paper White Heart ]