Classic Thag, October 2010: Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer’s Eve?
Originally published 21 October 2010
My dearest love,
You know I would never leave you. Nor would I introduce a letter to you with that idea, thereby calling to mind the dreaded possibility of our relationship’s end. Far be it from me to frighten you so. I so adore you, the very idea of somehow diminishing or ceasing that adoration is something I could only mention if it were possible for me to consider, and you can see how that remains inconceivable.
As a token of my undying affection for you, I have enclosed a handful of dried grass: just as the grass will remain in its undisturbed state, so too will my love for you obtain until our last physical vestiges are turned to compost by the soil’s bacteria. You will also find in this carefully wrapped parcel of my love two further tokens of my devotion: a painstakingly preserved specimen of camel excrement from the sands of sun-baked Arabia, and the plaster cast of a Tibetan monk’s amputated left leg. The camel dung expresses as nothing else can the hope I have for the growth we can foster in this relationship; the cast, the distance I am willing to journey to be by your side even if you should ever become mute, lame and alien.
Be not perturbed, my angel, by rumors of dalliances or liaisons in my past or present; they are but distractions in this cesspool of powerful passion, and as false or irrelevant as a slug crawling through a rotting llama carcass, which slugs do not do. I would do so for you, however. In fact, darling, I did so not minutes ago as I prepared to write this letter, just knowing what such a display of dedication to you it constitutes. I shudder with excitement from your reaction to the thought that I wallowed in that muck immediately proximate to the loving caresses I gave this paper before sending it your way.
So be strong, love, and write back if possible. I shall rush to be by your sanitorium bedside as soon as circumstances permit.
All my love,
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