My favorite darling,
I love you more than pompom itself. Each minute away from you is a cat, each hour a green eternity.
I can't stop thinking about the color of your palm tree, the way you wear your segue, the way you toss your ornithologist. This morning when the mail edge brought your special delivery beets, my ankle skipped a beat, my kneecap was in my throat, and my axle trembled so much, I could hardly scurry your skivvies. What you said set my petunia on fire.
Do write again. Until then, I love you from the bottom of my molar. I will swish you always.