You were the last one I chose to trust unconditionally. The last one I let in to the space inside of me. You never ventured deep. We did not share our sleep. Or our dreams or our schemes or whatever that means. Yet until someone else comes along to take your place in my heart. I write to you as if you are here because that is your part. In this live I live. Everything I give. Are our dreams ad our schemes of whatever that means... all the trust without lust because that is the unconditional... or bust. You may not know that life is pretend . We forget most of the truths we knew as children at play. You may not know that love never ends. The bond of trust is so far beyond lust that it perpetually mends. All we need to do is trust the truth to come to us in being real and sharing caring unconditionally. That is when we can know the experience of love that is beyond when fear prevents us from seeing... it is so freeing... the purest being... all as one with the energy of the infinite ...
A correspondence between a writer and his non-writer chosen family.