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Sat, 13 Jul 2002 10:03:10
Since our last meeting I have been a lousy cyclist. I can see the cars, pedestrians, the other messengers, the buildings in front of me but only just barely, I am preoccupied with thoughts of you, your eyes, your neck, your hands, your breasts, your thighs, the candles all round us burning, your taste, your moans, your sighs, your . . .
I miss you and I nearly crash scratch nearly scratch that I crash multiply.
These other objects, these impediments in front of me, seem like clouds, like immaterial things.
Until I fall to the pavement again and realize that I am not in your arms, I am scraped and bleeding instead.
Thank god for this helmet, which keeps thoughts of you intact.
And I have crossed out all other obligations for tonight as
I would just be distracted and
I can't think of anything I'd rather do than
spend some time with you.
I've purchased a picnic basket, Susanne. I have two bottles of chardonnay chilling, I have a nice brie to bake, jumbo shrimp on ice, poached salmon, a crunchy baguette, grapes, strawberries, candles and chocolates, a comfortable blanket and a desire to picnic this evening with you at Ravinia.
I know that this is short notice but I just
want you so bad right now I
And I will be thankful even if you crush my heart now for what you have already given me but
would be ever so much more grateful to
even the gods if
you could spend this night with me.