1837:

do not think i have written you off, all ready.
or reduced you to mainstream sports and greasy foods.
don`t you remember when we rode our bicycles for fun?
or broke in our summer skin by the swimming pool?
remember how when i woke up in the morning, there was a third easter basket on the hearth?
&the times we petted those furry babies, just because we could?
certainly, you could not have all ready forgotten!
there is more to you than i think.
there is more to you than even you think.
but do not fret,
He &i...well...you see,
me &Him...we`re not quite finished with you yet.

pour a little salt, we were never here.

i don`t know what to tell you, really.
of how to relay what laps i have run, [oh! the distances these feet have walked!]
&you expect to receive my gifts wrapped up neatly in butcher paper, tied with strawy twine?
i cannot speak to that.

of pigeons, people, &pretty, fine things.
of night time wanderers, metros, &cobbled streets.
of day-long flyings, &airport wanderings, and finally coming home [?] where is that again?
of short sleeps, bicycle rides, chlorinated swimming pools, ping pong tables &soft hearts.

yes!
i forgot what it is like to have two hands and feet,
we need to be reminded.
but i doubt you could ever know what i truely mean.

of pigeons, people, &pretty, fine things.

X.

"There are various orders of beauty, causing men to make fools of themselves in various styles, from the desperate to the sheepish; but there is one order of beauty which seems made to turn the heads not only of men, but of all intelligent mammals, even of women. It is a beauty like that of kittens, or very small downy ducks making gentle rippling noises with their soft bills, or babies just beginning to toddle and to engage in conscious mischief--a beauty with which you can never be angry, but that you feel ready to crush for inability to comprehend the state of mind into which it throws you." -George Eliot