A letter to home (AOWL NS)

[Echo]

Dearest Lynnette,



Times been ticking away in the busiest way. It's been 62 days since I convinced you to stay. Ridiculous, babe. I found work on the Dock unloading the Ships. The only perks of the job are feeling broken and shit. I'm almost certain the mob are controlling the lists but they pay, so you're a joke if you quit. I take the loot instead. There's a lot of violence too from the Irish crew when they lose a bet. I try to steer clear of the guys that shoot a debt.
----------- New York is massive! I'm such a dork in traffic which probably makes sense to you, knowing how I tend to move. I've mentioned you to a friend or two. I guess I find it helpful to. It's all hustle and bustle in expensive suits. Huge crowds that cruise town. I jump on a bus when it's too loud. I listen to the machine's smooth sound to cool down from a mood swing. My apartment is too big. It's dark with a new fridge. I think there's a compartment for tool-kits. Honestly, I haven't really started to move in because I left my heart there with you, Lynn.
----------- The City's alive. It's a gift to describe. She's both tough and romantic. A hub for the frantic. Full of love yet pedantic. Seen through rose-tinted glasses it's still broken and half lit by the color of ash. Stubborn and brash. Mysterious of shape and thought. Yet serious, you can't shake it off. Irate and soft, the essence controlling. It takes mere seconds to know when New York beckons, it's owning.
----------- I miss you. I miss the curve of your nose. Imperfect and whole. I miss the grass-stained dirt on your clothes from laying turf for a Rose and how your back hurts in the cold but you're full of mirth when it snows. I'm out of my depth here. Down and depressed, dear. I fear to forget the lines on your face when you frown and your neck sears. Each one divine and in place. The half-smile for me alone. This past while I can't see it, though. Even so; I miss your feel and hold and how no matter where we are your feet are cold. It's truly a sin how you wear beauty as skin. Moving this pen I ache for when you soothe me again.

Yours Truly,

it's Tim