e.

5.11.

T H E A T L A S S I X

-by @olivieblake

To Beatrice- Darling, dearest, dead.

For Beatrice- My love for you shall live forever. You, however, did not.

For Beatrice- I would much prefer it if you were alive and well.

To Beatrice- My love flew like a butterfly, until death swooped down like a bat. As the poet Emma Montana McElroy said: "That's the end of that."

For Beatrice- You will always be in my heart, in my mind, and in your grave.

For Beatrice- When we met my life began. Soon afterwards, yours ended.

For Beatrice- When we were together, I felt breathless. Now you are.

For Beatrice- Summer without you is as cold as winter. Winter without you is even colder.

For Beatrice- Our love broke my heart, and stopped yours.

For Beatrice- When we first met, you were pretty, and I was lonely. Now, I'm pretty lonely.

For Beatrice- Dead women tell no tales. Sad men write them down.

For Beatrice- No one could extinguish my love, or your house.