Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Last Letter to Tanya

Tanya,

You live on inside me as waves of perfume. In quiet moments you still surround me. It's a shame you became an academic girl and no longer believe in God and music. To discover your beauty is hollow is what drove me to blended scotch and worse. It did not do me much good but filled me with pretensions and false feelings. It made me the the dunce who stands before you; ultimately it made me joyfully mean. I lost my faith in clarity because you poisoned me with Chanel. I've gone to filthy places with hopes to clear my head. That is how stupid I am, my love. A moron who still believes in God and music but cannot bear the disinfection of a church. I remember your embraces too clearly--especially when it's silent--how I would get lost in the sweaty tangles of your hair and how holy it was. So I sit in bed and smell her armpits.

What are you wearing?

Filthily, religiously, yours,

Nigel Tewksbury

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