"Letters to Eliza" - a tale of love. Letter No. 2

Letter No. 2

Eliza,
Between us there are liters of watercolors, acrylics, oils, millions of canvases, brushes, old frames. They simultaneously divide and bring us closer to you. Every time you visit museums, you enter my house, I am looking at you from everywhere, flickering between wandering visitors, pushing in the aisles. And it seems to me that you are always right, when you smile at the water lilies, then we get closer, we really grow together with our fingers so that you cannot tell. Then each picture becomes a mirror, a magical reflection of you in luxurious dresses, with an umbrella, dancing, laughing among the poppies. I like it when you sit like this, stretching out your legs and looking at glowing faces and flowers, angular houses and square worlds, couples flying over the city, the play of light and shadow. Then you are just like a child, then the universe is in your pupils, then you are me. But suddenly you are looking at your watch and after one short sigh you cannot be caught up. You leave and sunflowers and irises wither with you, everything loses its meaning. I stay and sit for a long time in the twilight, listening to your steps somewhere on the pavement, where everything is unreal, where your face becomes different, as if it exists only in two dimensions. But even then I love you, because to love is to believe that you will come again and maybe one day decide to stay forever.

Anastasia Volkhovskaya