Paper 3

To Whom It May Concern:

Dear Sir/Mdm,

I have a hunch letters put into floating bottles should not follow the format of a formal letter, but that is the only way I know to write a letter. I hope you are not a lonely enough person, to be reading this. May solitude be the curse upon only a few.

Acoustic songs always have the effect of making me unnecessarily melancholic and unerringly verbal. It is usually on such nights I make excessive confessions to both myself and others. A wholly unhealthy thing to do when one values social pride and all that crap.

Evidently, I am in such a mood tonight. Another malady I wish you do not have.

One bad habit I have is that I try to detect, however unfounded, wounds in people, that I may use to colour my canvas of poetry and irony. A quilt that gives no warmth.

Silence holds within its folds many songs of silenced sighs and longing gazes. This you must know; this you must know

When one day we meet I will know you. You will be the star gazer that traces each step you take on each floor you step on, and you will feel a gaze upon you and you will look up and it will be me looking at you, and we will fall madly in eternal love in a moment.

You will walk away from me and I will hold on to this petal of unushed tear on my tongue in bed on sleepless nights, and you will hold on to this petal of unushed tear on your tongue in bed on sleepless nights.

Our hands will feel strangely empty and they will shape an imagined contour of a face, for which expression will never be known, for it will be a melody, a taste, a twirl

We will live forever in this moment and in this truth.

Katya