Dear Jennifer,

...such a Letter from you.

I just detached your letter some scores of minutes ago from your purple dove’s hind limb and I have to tell you this:

"I had been trying to speak to the meteors and the comets, but on every case it eludes my tiny voice and vanishes like summer’s whispering lightening."

"Then, I decided to catch the detergent bubbles and soap suds that rose from my Mom’s laundry basin; it disappeared into the thin air when my tender fingers reached it but two inches."

I mused and growled.

"I tried to persuade the birds against flying, but they soared higher up into the white clouds. I strove to coax the stars out of the sky into my hat, the distance seemed farther."

"When I heard her most;

she went dumb.

When I saw her most;

like an ice block under the eyes of the sun,

she dissolved away.

When I perceived her most;

she got frozen.

When I called her most;

she went deaf."

"I just pray that you forget that friendship has splendor that love knows not; that it grows stronger when crossed, whereas obstacles kill love. Forget that friendship resists time which wearies and servers couples. Forget that it has heights unknown to love. But please forget to remember to forget these!"

"When all these must have come and faded into the clouds of milky dust of this winter, I’ll still write to tell you that the best dreams of your wonderful past will be at the tail of the queue of your future’ benedictions."

The smooth flame of my lamp is fading, my crumpled paper is getting to the edge and my steaming ink is getting to the dredge. I have to mark today: 27th November, 2014; 12:08:56 am, on my diary that I may continue from where I stopped whenever, again, my lamp is lit.

So good for me, if once again, the hind limb of your dove, will be attached again with such a letter,

from you.

Nonso Oha.