Tuesday, October 26, 2004
Dear -,
They say that when you write your wishes on paper they take on a life of their own. I never write about you. It seems impossible to turn you into art, because you already exist more beautifully than anything I've ever been able to create. My wishes could not do you justice. Your face surprises me each time I see it. (I wish I could be so surprised more often!) It is amazing how you don't come anywhere near my expectations. I can handle the coffee and the cigarettes and the desolate silence. I just hope you're not a cocaine addict.
Love,
B.
They say that when you write your wishes on paper they take on a life of their own. I never write about you. It seems impossible to turn you into art, because you already exist more beautifully than anything I've ever been able to create. My wishes could not do you justice. Your face surprises me each time I see it. (I wish I could be so surprised more often!) It is amazing how you don't come anywhere near my expectations. I can handle the coffee and the cigarettes and the desolate silence. I just hope you're not a cocaine addict.
Love,
B.
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