Journal Entry 8/17

“I have been writing to you more and more lately, and my tail is lashing… Once I was such a patient hunter.

Now this tiger stalks the forest with muscles quivering, nose pointed to the wind, searching for your scent…

You haunt my pages and the flickering of dreams in the night. When these fronds brush my skin they are your fingertips. When the sun kisses my shoulders it is your lips. When the birds sing to me it is your voice in my ear. When my pages speak it is your words they whisper…

But who are you..? Who are you..?

Love is elusive, my jaws remain empty, and I would call to you now if I knew your name…”

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