Letter To A Girl Who Doesn’t Know My Name
I gifted you a purse of exotic snake leather. I couldn't wait to see your reaction. You didn't even smile.
This isn't love, this is war. You keep digging trenches to keep my army at bay. But my will is my artillery.
You don't appreciate my endless tenacity. That's fine, I know one day you will. I killed that snake all by myself.
The fine diamond dust from your skin makes my lungs bleed. I can barely breathe in this dense cyan mist.
Your tainted grin is so addicting. You are my nubile evergreen in a forest of ashen apparitions. So lush.
So alluring, your marble face. I painted your portrait the other day. I became more aroused with every stroke.
The air this suffocating summer is so thick like the damp thicket of a hellish jungle. I cannot think straight.
One day I thought of your scintillating skin. I imagined your divine body before me. Your looks beyond compare.
The next day I climaxed to your pictures. I couldn't handle the eruption of unadulterated ecstacy.
When will the day come? When will you speak to me? I am always the one to strike up a conversation. Pathetic.
I didn't mean to eavesdrop but I overheard you talking about a girl who was raped last night. Are you afraid?
Of course you are afraid. I will strike you down. You will drown in my spit and choke on my fist. My aloof love.