This is a love letter, which takes the form of a poem in prose with seven different parts.

Love letter by Ambre Pluta

Love letter: before you knew

Do you know that my favorite name to say is yours? And that every time it appears on my phone
I let out a breath
As if I’m breathing for the first time that day

Do you know that when I say your name It stays on my tongue for hours after
So sweet
But just the right amount

I cried alone in my bed
For lipstick on your cheek When I was the one to say That there wouldn’t be an us

Because I do not deserve you
It’s too messy in my mind
And my heart
Keeps disagreeing with every thought

I know it’s selfish in so many ways
But I love you so much that every love song reminds me of you
I know it’s crazy because I have always been one to dismiss theories of epic love
But now all my heart is spelling out to me, screaming at me, is that you could be the one

When I finally saw you again, I didn’t tell you
But I stared at you and listened to every single word you said Memorising every line on your face and every intonation
While knowing perfectly that the memory of you could never be enough

Love letter: the taste of your lips

I want to taste your lips
In the ways I’ve been daydreaming about
In my mind you are always still like a photograph Forever mid-laugh and twinkling eyes

I want to taste your lips
To leave here with the memory of how it feels
Etched in my mind like a tattoo I would never get rid of Right next to your name that plays on repeat

I want to taste your lips
Just before getting on the train
I know how selfish it is to wish so
But I am terrified of us and what we could be

Love letter: if words be the food of our love

You are the inspiration to my best creations
Because your smile gives sense to the words in my mind And nowadays I can never seem to write
If my thoughts aren’t all consumed by you

Your letter seats on my nightstand
Hidden away in the book you gave me
I often re-read it just before going to sleep
And soon I am sure I will know every word by heart

I miss you everyday a little bit more
As the miles that keep us apart seem to weigh on my chest
And make it harder to breath every passing day
Any text you send me is the only thing allowing me to b.r.e.a.t.h.e

Silently I wonder if I’ll run out of words one day
To say to you everything I’ve been repeating in my head Before you turn and walk away from me
Because without communication we are nothing

We were born with words written on keyboards
Words sent from miles apart
And in two years, the times I’ve been close enough that I could touch you Can be counted on one hand only

Love letter: numbered love

This is the last day of the year twenty-twenty
And I have spent only two of those three hundred sixty-five days with you When I wish I would have spent every single one just next to you

I’ve spent all night thinking
And, with the clarity of mind
That one can only achieve in the darkness of the night I’ve decided I’m going to tell you the truth

But I forgot
That to get to the point
When I will be able to tell you
I need to wait hours, days and weeks

It seems never ending
And I desperately hope
That I won’t lose the courage to do it When finally, we will be able to meet again

“The right person at the wrong time”
I wish it was still a foreign concept to me But It feels like you’re slipping far away

And I do not know how to catch you

It feels like you’re disappearing Behind this fog
Of distance and silence
Of words not said and love kept silent

I am not in your daily life
I never have been
But now, like never before, it feels lacking to me It feels like I don’t get to see that part of you

We have always been distanced by miles Sometimes thousands
Sometimes hundreds
Sometimes just a couple

Just enough for me to miss you every single day but four in eight hundred forty-three That means eight hundred thirty-nine days of missing you

Writing all of this seems to make it all so real
It seems to make us unreachable like never before I have never believed in theories of epic love
But somehow, I have always believed in us

I don’t ever feel hopeless loving you Or maybe I do all the time
And this is just one of the many lies I tell myself

I have written hundreds of words about you in this letter solely
And know that there are many lost poems about you hidden in my phone And that there will be many more
Because still you are so far away from me

Love letter: a life of ink and no sound

I don’t talk to you everyday
But I do write about you
And it makes my heart ache just a little bit less Or just a little bit more

There is a strange loneliness
In the way I’ve been loving you in silence
Spelling out words on pages and pages
Without ever uttering one of those words out loud

They lay there on paper, a life of ink and no sound I do not know how they feel on my tongue Because even when I’m alone
I do not dare say them aloud

Love is always such an abstract concept
What is love? How do you know you love someone?
How do you know you’re in love?
Isn’t love this one big question, that poets have been spilling ink about for centuries?

Isn’t love the only thing worth writing about?
I am riddled with questions
And I know that keeping them silent won’t bring me answers But maybe I’m not looking for answers

Maybe wondering in silent is a distracting game Maybe it’s all a lie to keep myself from falling apart

Love letter: thoughts of you in August

I found a note I wrote in August last year
“I keep you in the special box in my heart, where I keep all my beautiful thoughts”

The day before that, I wrote in another note
“I don’t know if I will ever feel like I’m not in love with you anymore”

It could be about anyone, there is no name, no specification
But I know it’s about you, always you
Because every single love thought I have written down since I’ve known you Has been about you

Reading again notes I’ve written
August seems to be filled by thoughts of you
“You have a way with words, writing me poems every time you talk to me, rimes seem to flourish on your tongue”

I forgot about the time when I existed without you
When I didn’t know you
When you weren’t just a phone call away
When you weren’t the first thought on my mind everyday When you weren’t half of me

When I hadn’t met you yet and you hadn’t met me

I was wondering this morning if this letter was finished
If I wasn’t going to find any more words to add to it
Well now I have the answer
I seem to never run out of words when it comes to talking about you

Love letter: the end of you and I

We haven’t talked, really talked, in so long
But talking is our thing
There’s so much silence now that it’s drowning me
So, I wonder if this means that I shouldn’t give you this letter

What would you do with it
What good would it do for me to give it to you

When now I fear that our feelings don’t mirror anymore When I would be left with a broken heart

I might take the words of this letter
Turn them into something else
Because I don’t want them to stay hidden They would burden me too much

Thus, I’m going to let them live,
But hidden away behind a story
If you ever read it, I am certain that you will know That this is you, that this is us

I want to finish this letter now So that we’re not left unfinished So that the next time I see you
I won’t count every second

Ambre Pluta

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