I envy the immortality of poets and writers—
how their spirits linger through the beauty they’ve penned.
You reminded me that words, though born of mortal hands,
can render our fleeting lives eternal.

Our love shall live on in these letters.
Long after we’re gone, our great-grandchildren—
even strangers who never knew our names—
will read them and feel the pulse of what we were.
In their minds, we’ll rise again.

When I leave this world,
let these precious lines be my footprints.
I’ll carry no regrets—
for I’ll meet you in a better place,
and our story will echo long after we’re gone.

They will know that we were here.
We lived, we loved, and we departed—
wrapped in joy, hand in hand.
And as we cross into eternity,
these words will keep our flame alive in this fleeting world.

While sunlight blinds our eyes,
while I sit in your lap,
bathed in golden warmth,
and drinking in the view—
they will be reading this billet doux.