letter # 2
Dear boy who cuts the wooden tumors,
I spoke to you from the roof top outside my old bedroom. I let the sun beat down and obstruct my alertness. I let it glue my eyes into a slant and i pressed the call button on my cellular device. I wanted to speak to you from a scenic setting. I wanted to bridge some gap of my commonplace days to your magic. I sent cuff links to your box and a poem about how your face looks like a box when you wear your black hoody lined with pink material. i wrote less intensly more observantly than before and i do not check my mail everyday because the exchange of my letter may never occur. that is how i feel again just as i felt before. but but but i still wait. still in waiting for my fate to be revealed by you woodland pixie. come to the coast come to the sea. and see me.
the boy with a sun slanted face.
I spoke to you from the roof top outside my old bedroom. I let the sun beat down and obstruct my alertness. I let it glue my eyes into a slant and i pressed the call button on my cellular device. I wanted to speak to you from a scenic setting. I wanted to bridge some gap of my commonplace days to your magic. I sent cuff links to your box and a poem about how your face looks like a box when you wear your black hoody lined with pink material. i wrote less intensly more observantly than before and i do not check my mail everyday because the exchange of my letter may never occur. that is how i feel again just as i felt before. but but but i still wait. still in waiting for my fate to be revealed by you woodland pixie. come to the coast come to the sea. and see me.
the boy with a sun slanted face.