this is all we do. I don't understand why this has to be such a big deal after all. it seems perfectly innocent to me, but we never would do it in front of them, so that must say something... we do know better, so that right there says a lot. it says we know. we do know, don't we... christ, i can't even say your name or write it, not even here. you can't even say mine.when i was away i heard a violinst in the subway playing a solo violin - that piece by that we both like - a partita - and i could only think of you. he - you know he - had been on the war path for the entire two weeks and months before, just gunning for me, knowing too well there is something between us that was not entirely kosher. i told you before i left, i rang you, We need to be more careful. i still dont' know what gave it away. maybe that we left the room together? that we always find a way to sit next to each other, that beneath the table our knees and feet touch (but nobody sees that, do they?). It's just a vibe, isn't it. Hard to hide that. Even when i was sick, i went to bed (your bed, you said to lay there and to rest and i did, with my head on your pillow and passed out from illness.)
He was there of course and when i came to, she was there, your wife, but you... you there with that look of concern on your face, bringing me what i need, making sure i was okay. of course he tried to do the same but you understood having lived with me forever... so you have the upper hand in this way. it's not really fair and i do love him. he's a good man and i know you know this, but god, i do want you. i can't help it. i know you know that we can't be like we want to be, but we can just be... we just have to be so so so careful. What a mess if anyone finds out. Christ, how i dread that. Can you still keep our secrets? you always were so good - you taught me, after all. Do you remember?
Thanks for telling about the ribbons. I didn't know my letters smelled like me. I hope that's good. They must smell like church. everyone says my letters smell faintly of incense and i don't know why - i don't burn incense here. it must just be something in my perfume and on my hands.
i keep looking at the photo... at the ... on that day on 6th... after we had been at the hotel when and where we just could not. I have that photo. It's all in such small things. God i love this part of you. I always have, you know that.
I miss you - i liked hearing your voice yesterday - or was it the day before?
My ankle is still bruised from the sprain and has turned a shade of purple and mauves and yellows. You would worry if you saw it so it's just as well. I got your box of tea and jar of honey. Thank you. I got the short hand, of course. And the two glass... i polish them in the night. I could win them in a game. I keep them safe. I carry them everywhere i go.
ta cousine
