Yesterday

Dear Raine:

I am tired of these images in my head. They make me feel things that aren't right. They make me want, and want and want! I could kill these images. Fucking kill them I tell you!

Do you remember when we were children? Remember how afraid I was of the dark? And how terrified I was of being lost? Well, I could do with some light now. I wouldn't mind a new brain either. Preferably a brain that will refuse to process these fucking images.

And do you remember what a control freak I used to be? Yeah, yeah, I know what you're thinking. I'm still a sucker for control. Well, would you believe I lost it for a few minutes yesterday. Now, I really shouldn't go thinking of yesterday...but Raine, you remember how I could never resist  a chance to beat the boys at anything, well this is like that, I can't resist this particular yesterday.

I pray though, old friend, that I can resist the things in that yesterday.

The image? It's of dark coffee, spiked with rum and a hint of chocolate. You remember that drink? You remember the colour? Well picture that irresistible brew against the golden brown of my breast. Contrast. My image is of contrast. I loved it. I want it. I crave it like I crave our lightly creamed Irish Coffee.

But Raine, that yesterday cannot  be and I am stuck with this image. If the yesterday I cannot resist could be then I'd be lost, I think...but are we ever truly lost?

With much love,

the only woman,

closer to your heart,

than your Rose V