My dear, for my days and nights are filled with such a remembrance of thou that I well not realised. Nay, not love nor hate of thou that I missed of hitherto. For I am in tentative of what reasoning art bear that draws my attention abreast. There is something about all this that I do not understand; but if ever we need to know it, thou may be sure that we shalt.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
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