Having just returned...

Beautiful Lady,

Having just returned from a long trek to and from Ashgrove to meet with one of my good friends, the famous artist Barek, I find that my thoughts again turn to you. Should I not tell you? Know that you have been the last thing I think of as Sandman takes me and the first thing I think on hearing the dawn and consciously drawing morning breath.

With each subsequent breath, I wonder at your own breath... should that the world have no wind nor friction, would I feel that breath on my cheek across the gulf that currently stands between us? I think sometimes I can feel it, as I feel the wash from the sparkle in your eyes even outside sight, and yet I rue that gulf. That I could reach out and touch you would not lessen the thoughts of your breath against my cheek; it would merely add more to the experience.

Here I use the term 'mere' in the same inappropriate usage as a castle being a mere house, or a falcon being a mere bird, or perhaps that my fluttering heart for you is mere limerance. Fear not! Limerance is sweet and exciting with you and your character; the warmth in my chest is not an illusion and has not faded; your voice I yearn to hear and your lips I long to kiss. But that this could lead to something that is greater still is incredible to perceive. Could it?

Such a shock it was to find that I had to forcibly wrench my mind from thinking of you to ensure the qualities of my attentions were not in jeopardy. Even with this intent, it is clear the subject matter is pale and lifeless in comparison. That I could relinquish the curves of a graph to carefully study your curves and lines; cease pursuing client requirements and pursue yours in terms of companionship, affection and attention, diligently and with purpose; stop encouraging witless people to submit required forms and instead encourage you to shine such that I may adore more of this shine myself, selfishly.

But perhaps I digress too far and I have other matters of state to urgently attend.

Know that you are in my thoughts, always,
YYYY