letter to brendan, saint of saints in my short and sad book

where we're calling from?
it's a little place called love we have deep down in each of us
that little place that survives such whirlwinds as distance and change and time
and i love it because it holds so much that we cannot
it holds those little bits of history we would have forgotten
those moments on islands we should base our lives on but we can't
because we're somewhere's else, on some other beach
succumbing to some other tide

the desert is very real Brendan
i wanted to walk through it with you of all people
but winds blew us askew and now
and now
we have but ourselves to fend for

who knows what tomorrow and tomorrow might bring?
but i know, in my heart of hearts, that you are with me
despite your many harrowing adventures
despite the drunken revelries of today which tempt you to forget our yesterdays

those movies we spoke of once, so long ago
that played forever on the backs of our adolescent eyelids
i have never forgotten those flicks, those films, those shattered dreams

if i were truly a fisherman the line i am tossing right now would hook you
where it hurts the most and bring you back to my shore
even if it takes a hundred hungry years

i will wait
with my pizza box wings and my beautiful memories and my endless stories
i will wait for you on the promontory of our tale
waiting for the end we scripted so long ago
or even the middle
or some beginning we've already forsaken

on my ship you're still first mate
and we have yet to sink
even though I've been bailing for some time now

my daughters live and grow and change daily and would love to hear
your scattered voice

please send us your words as often as you can
for they are the floatsam by which we shall guide ourselves to shore


i remain yours
-sky