Dear Doe,


It’s been a while. . . a break in communication with you but not with life. . . Andrew Marvell was right in his poem to the ‘Coy Mistress’ about time’s winged chariot hurrying near’. . . the times have changed and the moments swirls in circles. . . the memories are fading and the feelings tasting sour like they weren’t once sweet!

I looked at your notes, they hummed sadness, I couldn’t imagine myself playing keys to a sad song! One time, melancholies were my favourite; now I have lost taste for the ‘once‘ and found beauty and warmth in the hands of ‘now‘. . . Now, my favourites have become my allergies. . . Sadness now gives me zits unlike goose pimples. . . Now, I know the ugliness that differentiated zits from goose pimples. . . Now, I wanna smile and not fake it! I want to smell roses in summer and in spring. I want to wake in purple and sleep in pink. . . I want to rest in lavender and play in strawberry. I need the moon to be jealous of how much smile I flash her every new nights unlike the scorn she’s used to. I need the sun to bronze the bridges of my nose and blush the apple of my cheeks.

I wanna walk in a garden of matured coloured apples and wake every morning to the smell of yellow roses. . . I want to wake in the morning to a brewing taste of dark coffee made by a masculine hand. . . I relish the strength of a strong hand rocking my back like a baby’s after a stressful day. . . I wanna wake everyday like it’s December with a bottle of wine, two cups and a fireplace. . .

That’s love! The kind of desire that makes you wanna abandon sadness for happy! The yearning that makes you wanna level your road with the debris from your broken walls. . . the feeling that makes you wanna ditch fear just to try!

. . . The only thing I need you to crave for like you do with dark chocolates. . .