Draft from September 15th, 2009

Today I write you something beautiful. Something that exhales pulchritude, something colorless, something blind, perhaps something full, infinite, without questions or answers, without explanation. Today, I give you this, because no matter how much I wish I couldnt write it, or think it or feel it, it has overpowered every single intent, and taken over. This thing loves you, caresses you, desires you and wishes more than anything to sing sweet nothings or everythings in your ears. This beautiful thing yearns to hug you, call you it's own and bless you, embrace you and paint your beautifulness. This beautiful thing today wants to touch and let go, to miss you, and miss you, and have you all over again. This thing wants the impossible and unimaginable superpowered event of having you, of mothering you, of womaning you. This thing intends to exault you, and adore you, to convince you and smile you. The everything wants to be your everything, the hands want to touch your hands. The lips want to to speak with the upper, then the bottom, then the opening, then the tongue, and the rivers that unite this magical, impossible tale. Today, I want to write you something beautiful, perhaps something passionate, something too much to bear, something that breaths..... and lets out, and cannot control the thoughts, the impulses. Today, the beautiful makes you it's beautiful, the love makes you it's love, the pain makes you it's pain. I wish I had you....