Somedays i feel like writing love letters to the world: yes i love you, now please leave me alone.

      Your thousand faces and two four six eight hands and roadnames and pictureframes and pebbles are welcome guests. But in such succession i have no time to clean house. The little things i bring out to show the first are still laying about, leaving no place for the second to sit - those stories i wove around the second pile up after she's gone again, until you, nth friend, teeter on top of a pile, head grazing the ceiling, important things lost in the pile.. I can't see your eyes, unless - no those are seventh's eyes, he left them behind - there is something on my toe and i can't move my hands and the dishes need washing and or i won't be able to feed you.

      I'm sorry to be in such disarray. But i wanted to see you - toute de suite! You, the world, are so fantastic, that to see you, sitting legs crossed in my living room makes me smile uncontrollably. I went to visit you once, but it turns out you live in my kitchen, my shower, my knife drawer, my shoe.

      To share this with you is a daily joy. Go ahead and rain: you're lovely like that too. If i get up and walk around, feeling your rain on my skin makes me that much closer - i can lose myself in thinking of that touch so much that i trip over some part of me i've left lying out. Me or - someone. I lose track.

      Honestly! Like a child with his toys. Someone's going to get hurt.

            Dear World,
      I miss you when you're away. Please go.
                        I love you
                              Honestly. Like a child with his toys.
                              There is nothing better than you. Go.

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