a letter for you

by Jacob Berg

    i love you. i
wanted to put it down somewhere
and i had that thought a million times but
where in the world does one put that thought down?
so i waited and i waited and i
never got around to doing it until
just recently and
i picked here of all silly places but, then again,
where in the world does one jot down a living mantra
    as banal and sublime as
    i love you? i
can’t remember just now
if i told you every day, or
if i never managed to say it once, or
if the richness you brought to my life
was just one more transient thought
for which i am infinitely grateful but
did not manage to express adequately
or on time, or if i just wish i could take
one last goddamn crack at
explaining how there is a part of me
that only exists within you
and it lives and it dies and it breathes and it loves in concert with your life and your death and your breath  and your love and, i swear to god, if i ever find out that
you’re not loving every ounce of this world with
the full might of your being i will
jump right off this page and give you that look that only
i can give you and nobody else and it just says
i love you all the way and
i can see you right here and
there’s something there you gotta change but it’s ok because
it’s been hard for me without you too but it’s ok because
    i love you. anyways, i
just figured that i should write it down somewhere
at some point
just so we’d both always have it.

— from Juniper Volume 3, Issue 1