drowned energy » poetry

Letters To Erin David: Casted

The year was 1969. We were in Canada. Quebec to be exact.

It was your first time out of the country and you were in awe. Your bright eyes shimmered like night stars and your pale hands trembled with excitement.

"Where should we go?"

You spoke swiftly, your words becoming tied with your impulsiveness. "Um, what about Musee de la Civilisatio- or maybe La Citadelle. Yeah, La Citadelle!"

"Ok, E. Let's go to La Citadelle." I laughed at how wide your eyes had gotten. They held a certain innocence to them, something that you lost that certain night in '70. "I didn't know you had such an interest in history though."

"Don't you ever underestimate me. I can catch a bullet and look like I didn't feel a thing." You enthusiastically.

Funny how irony comes into play, isn't?

"Anything you say, Erin." I spoke with a smile.

As we walked toward the famous landmark, I felt a nudge against my left arm.

It was you. You wanted to hold hands.

"Well...?"

I looked into your glossy eyes and stared at you with certain warning. "Are you sure? We're not by ourselves, you know." I glanced at our surroundings.

"What's the worst it could do?"

Now I know. It could get you killed in the cold blood of a bigot.

"Fine."

My hands felt dry, coarse if you will, but as it made contact with yours, it was a different sensation. Your hands felt as if they were of silk despite the atmosphere.

As we got there, you confessed that you only wanted to see the St. Lawrence River. It was on your bucket list.

You had a list of things that you wanted to complete by the time you died. Turns out that you wanted to marry me, something that couldn't happen until the next century.

We stood over the bridge, warm breaths contrasting against the cold, and watched in silence. You whispered "check" to yourself and resumed to your silence.

"De rien, Erin."

You smiled warmly and nodded slightly. "Thank you for everything. Perhaps we can visit Quebec another time?"

"Of course." I squeezed your hand.

I lied to you though.

By the time we reached the time of year for our trip, you were seven weeks dead and so was I.

My soul was casted away from this earth when you left, it's just my body still roams.

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It's been a while since I did one of these.