*Absurd Letter II*

Dear Reflection of my Soul,

                                                    While swimming in the Blackberry Pond, a sudden illumination touched the peppermint section of my mind and reminded me of what I had to tell you, the cinnamon marsupials and the caramel beetles. Oh, the water in the pond was so sweet and cold, and the sky was so fresh and the wind was so smiley that I sang the most irrelevant little melodies. But this is not helping me to tell you what I have to tell you -which is very VERY important. I have to avoid all distractions. It's just that everything was so delightful, with the absence of humanity and the presence of life. I started sensing I was an outsider, so I mutated into a jasmine-perfumed-winged butterfly (lat. papilio primaverum -such an innocuous remark, when we both know that what killed Latin was the loss of the "choco" particle). So now you see me -and you would hear me too, if you only stopped screaming like a waterfall of shrieking cats! Have you ever been to one of those? I have, and oh, what a beautiful deceit it was! Fist of all, there were no cats around, but the humans had dyed the water and it was now like a lemonade stream. And I was so grateful -I'd have HATED to see (and hear) some waterfalling cats. Fourth of all, there were no shrieks to be heard, just a lovely whispering of golden spaghettis. I think spaghettis are the saddest meal in the kitchens of the world. I think the world is something more than a gigantic gray sphere -I think it's an enigmatic gigantic gray sphere. Spheres are not my favourite geometrical forms. I like pyramids better. I think Egypt must be marvelous during the Fall -and you know I'm talking about the Roman Empire. I think an army of rhinoceros would have helped the Roman Empire a great deal -they would have totally beaten the hippopotamus in the centre of the Earth. Hippopotamus, 'horses of the river'… but I was riding no horse and it was a POND, not a river -I was a butterfly trapped in the cobwebs of your sensuality, I was a papillon drinking the nectar of your words. Let me touch you with my magic-powdered wings and I'll take you to the most unimaginable places. We'll reach the horizon and the land of the shooting stars, far beyond the oceans of lying marmalade and the laughing deer woods, away from spying owls and denying mice, in a purple meadow where we can lay on the velvet ground and look at the night through the eyes of the lovers we are. And no, I will no longer be a butterfly, in case you were wondering. We will be just a boy and a girl, playing with the moments.
But I'll ramble no longer. Mars is in the seventh house (taking care of the taxes, I presume), and my vet told me not to go dancing in the open air. So I got to go and catch some air to put inside of a jar. But I doubt I'll be drunk enough to dance, so I may be able to visit you and brush your hair -you know what I'm talking about.
I send kind regards to the cinnamon marsupials and the caramel beetles… and I send you all my passionate feelings towards you, so you'll know how much I love you and want you and need you.

With all my heart,

Mrs. Melisa De Luca (your wife, don't forget that!)