Excerpt from a Love Story II

This life is a light meant for burning.

I love: isn’t that enough? Isn’t it everything, really?

You ask me to choose you forever. I know nothing about forever. I only know there was a bird in my hand that flew, citrus bursting on my tongue, blood orange and pink in a ribbon across the pond before dark, and then quiet. Does that mean something, dear? Perhaps. Perhaps not. Either way, this life is a light meant for burning. So I burn. And burn.