sweetheart

i got up this morning with a song in my heart which i soon transferred to music on my sound system, so i-am-a-rocking… and my heart is singing along to all the tunes. we are happy, happy, happy!

you open me up to everything that’s yellow and healthy and well and sunny. at the same time you nourish me quietly with rain and moss and mushrooms and green thunder and turn my small heart into a very huge rich rust anthill, slyly. it is like a secret that happens. when i notice, i’m all filled with this anthill heart in my chest that has trillions of little ants carrying love all over the place. your light is so light. (see? you make me act like i'm thirteen. but that’s just dandy too) you are my star of bethelehem and my rock of ages. i do not care that i gush. i am overcome every day of my life with love for you. every moment. i knew someone once who told me, after much drink, that if she had to choose between saving the lives of her children or her husband, she would save her husband. i never knew what to think of that and i was puzzled for a long time, wondering if it was the alcohol talking, but somehow feeling disturbed because i thought i understood where she was coming from. i think i may understand her feelings about that even better now. (half of me cringes and thinks i must be a very bad person) how i feel for you grows by itself, i have no power over it, it's a bit like an emotional erection, i guess. this is true! sometimes i feel i cannot contain all of it. and if i did not write you these letters, i would surely burst with what i feel and die with all my intestines and blood and guts and gore everywhere, grossing out everyone around me and making passersby turn their heads the other way. i’m a beautiful mess with you in my heart, imagine the unlovely mess i’d be without you…

i went to town with a friend yesterday, i had so much to do. all the worldly little things that keep me busy until you return. i’m sure you remember how much i love lipstick and that i have so many of them. well, i bought some more. i took their names – i am always seduced with the names of their colours and wish i could have a full time job naming lipsticks – and made a poem of them for you. you know i’m no poet, but here it is. don’t laugh or i’ll have to punish you when you get back…

thirteen is my lucky and favourite number, so i bought thirteen colours and each one represents one kiss from me (one for every month of the year that lies ahead, and one extra, just for in case), which i promise i will give you the minute we are together. something i hope you look forward to too. the kisses, i mean. and being with me, of course…i love you.

kiss one - pink truffle

you taste like lemon waffle

kiss two - candy apple

please, let us be a couple

kiss three - sweet tart

you forever have my heart

kiss four - poppy petal

i adore your every freckle

kiss five - peach sorbet

with you i’d love to play

kiss six - red velvet

you fit me snugly like a helmet

kiss seven - brown custard

i am sausage you are mustard  

kiss eight - creamsicle

you turn life into a dreamsicle

kiss nine - tutti frutti

i will always be your groupie

kiss ten - red cupcake

you keep me so wide-awake

kiss eleven - moonlit mauve

you light me up like wood a stove

kiss twelve - sassy citrus

please will you undo my bodice

kiss thirteen - angelic rust

my love, in you  rests all my trust

there is one more colour called ruby luck. you can tell me what you’d like with lips covered in that when you get here…think of a rhyme so long that will go with it.

colour kisses await you when you get back home.

many, many, many of them.

i love you still and i always will

ruby