(this is the letter form of the nonet of the same title)
Dearest, my perfect:
There are flavors and shadows understood better the longer I indulge in loving you.
I love you. I want you. I become you.
This is an unbranded romance that only you and I know. This is the kind of love that a pragmatist will not dare, that an idealist will misunderstand, that a realist will mistake for the unreal.
I can lick your shoes and kiss your toes and kneel down in front of you. Let the feminists be confused. Let society be confused. Let me be called arrogant, or let me be called a martyr. But this here is my signature. You and I are equal. You are my man, and I am your woman. You are my king, and I am your queen. You are Adam, I am Eve. We are masters of each other, and slaves of each other. I reign, and I serve. I worship, as I am worshipped. This is the kind of surrender that is triumphant, a dominance that is submissive, a humble pride. This is the kind of love not governed by need, but by want, by passion. We are regal by ourselves. And as you are to me, I am a proud woman, and I want to share myself with you, my best and my most royal, my summit and peak. I will certainly spoil you of that.
This perhaps is the cusp of acceptance. This perhaps is the summit of chemistry. This is the height of faithfulness and commitment. If not, then let me, let us become more, become our golden best. I want your marvel and your horror. I want the divine in you and the devil in you. I want you shallow and I want you deep. I want your low as I want your high. I want you beautiful and I want you ugly. I want your pleasure and your pain. I want your health and disease. I want your good and your evil. I want your right and your wrong. I want all of you. I want to experience every facet of you, the way we know each other from head to toe. I love you whether we are blissful or angry. I love you whether it’s sunny or stormy. I love you whether we are golden or burnt. This here is something that transcends emotions, something that surpasses its extremes. This here is my penchant for you and only for you. This is how powerful my faith and my gift to you is. There is no other who can be as beautiful and as perfect as the god and monster that you are. I will certainly be yours for better and for worse. I am a poet, and no, it is not the heart nor the moon nor the stars. It is my soul that you capture, that I give you and bring you, and all that I can be. Let my love for you be like time in a String Theory, Relativity kind of physics. It bends, it is endless, it is fluid, it transcends distance and time – eternal.
This is one of those times I just draw whatever comes out of my hand. >.<
I don't know why there is a giant beard with a face or why it's surrounded by duck-faced monsters, with one of them just as confused as the doodler herself.
My peers in psychology class might have something to say about this, about myself. I am not going to interpret this.
When sunlight meets your slumber-caught face
I am blessed with a perfect day
to give what I’ve been given:
secret priceless fortune,
my seed, bud and root,
blood and candor,
soul and bones -