Under griseous sky, fore grand bridge, atop grainy boardwalk, they, guy and gal, glide—both gracefully and gleefully—toe-a-go-go-*gasp!*-a-go-go-go. ; )

Whereas haysel gathers that which feeds, Masel collects that which reads—each sharing points of pens, some for greens and others for greets, but both, in essence, for wants as needs.

Darling, you are such a sparkling starling and I need to tell you that whenever I feel my world is both blurred and blue, I think of the time I offered you a peck and your startlish response threw me off deck—just before your pause returned with a squeeze, confirming it will always be okay as long as the other is what each heart ever sees. I love you, Roo. Always.

If there were a reflected self of the antichthon, I might offer it awe, but certainly not jealousy—for only here can I love each breeze and wave that brushes the roots of my fantastic reality.

Last semester buried in redology left both our hearts split and sore, so let true fortune be found here, in Paris, embraced with selves to adore.