By the first available mail of the morn...

"Dear Isabel...
Sending this by first available mail...
For felt like sending this to you...
With me so many things happening...
Coming out incessant like a dam gate opened...
Felt like you could be a bit confused...

Hey Isabel...
There's no confusion...
There is only a curious fusion...
A flux...
Can never be perhaps measured
By units of light...
What they call it?
'Lumen...
and
Lux?'
i guess so...

Once wrote
'au revoir...'
Well...
There's actually nothing like that in the whole world...
There are only journeys to be made...
Vertical...
Horizontal...
And
Deep down...
Inside...

And...
After that there's only coming back...
To Life...
With a singularity of purpose...
With force never used...
With a calm befitting a muse...

And of course...
With more of Him...
The God...
And white white doves...
And nests being built by birds...
Nests all over the earth...

And...
Gabriel's star...
With a blue ribbon tied...

A star...

That on your bosom i placed...

With a vow...

With a promise of rain...

Just that...

And a road...
To travel like a free boat...
Not castaway...
But by dreams cast...
And a severe lust
Not for pleasure derived by any rush
Of blood...

But
A pleasure...
An undying lust
For Life...
Living with peace...
And with
Only Him...
And
Like two balls
Attached pretty close
At the centre
Of the earth...
A great rotating disc...
In the most restive state...
Fixed..."

-your Frances...

(by the way...
i am still traveling...
Just discovered a place
Where a small tree
Stood happy
With awesome peacefulness...
Pale yellow her blossoms
Falling like shower...
On the ashphalt...
Bluish dark...
Another tale...
Another dream...
i see...
Evolving...
And
La radice...
i feel that here...)