As promised, one lesbian love letter:
"My Darling--
It really is quite delicious to write that. I ought to be washing a few things but it is really too romantic a night. But the sweet incense of your presence still broods around me like a dream from which I am only half awake.
Darling, I love you so terribly, I do. I have a suspicion that is my chronic indisposition were accurately diagnosed much of it must be pronounced "love." To say that I worship you is a most colorless statement of the fact. I can't tell you how much I loved having you. You are just as pretty as ever you can be with your lovely long braids and sweet, sweet face, and the blue dressing gown, and I adore you. I want you again. I simply cannot endure bot to have you again soon. It sounds quite ungrateful, I know, but I am suffering all the agonies of being in love. I have derived some comfort from sleeping in the precise spot you occupied half hopeful that some of the dear warmth might still be found to linger. But I crave something tangible. I want to hold in my arms what is dearer than life to me -- to lie "spoon fashion" all through a long long night -- to cover your wee hands, your beautiful throat and every part of you with kisses. I'm just mad with love for you.
Perhaps tomorrow I shall be sorry I wrote this. But it is true. I have a feeling that I have treated you unfairly.
And after this shameless confession don't you think I am a terrible creature?"
Ah, l'amour.
1 comment:
rrrrrrrrrr
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