I thought of you this morning. I can’t believe that it was only yesterday that I saw you. Yes. Just yesterday I lingered outside the window, hoping you wouldn’t see me. I try to push you from my mind, but my thoughts always circle back to you. You glorious creature–I’m mad for you, dearest. I thought of you this morning as I think of you now–with indescribable pleasure. A perfect storm of desire and affection.
I saw you there, yesterday, sitting in the cafe. Your skin was the color of wheat, soft and glistening in the sunlight. Your curves, so perfect. What a strange effect you have on me. I desire you, my sweet. I long for you to fill the emptiness inside of me. But, I can’t have you. You don’t belong to me. You’re no good for me, my darling. Your soft skin and perfect curves ruin me. You’re incomplete–you have a hole in your core. You have no center. I know you can never love me the way I love you.
So it has been decided, my love. It is with much regret that I must abandon you, beloved doughnut. I must relinquish you, my dearest, to fools and children, who will consume you with reckless abandon, their mouths sticky with greed and glaze. I must leave you, darling, to be hastily eaten on one of two daily union-sanctioned breaks. My soul aches to think of you, my dearest, your soft skin and perfect curves torn apart in a feeding frenzy of grubby, unwashed fingers. I will miss you, my dear. My sweet.