enough of being accessible and making sense...

...I will say what I want to say, though it mean nothing to you.
Read Hans Christian Andersen's "Galoshes of Fortune" here.

Dear Care,

Prey, did you perchance let those galoshes of fortune slip two grey years ago? Because I perchance slipped them on, as I had always wished to be a povertous poet dallying about on a hilltop and there one tired January morning these flittery flits of decorative abstruse sentences filled my brain, poured forth from my pen and sometimes even escaped my mouth.
I basked in this glow of lights and cotton candy clouds and religious sparrows and individual grass blades and romantacized, symbolic people.
Then one year ago I wished to be coupled to un garçon. The poetry flitted out, as the dear galoshes only fill one wish at a time. It was as Hans had said, even as this final wish had come true, I was torn, conflicted, pained and deeply, heartfeltedly entrenched. Oh what a mire I had thrown myself into! Well, my wish was not as I had thought it would be, though I can't agree that I would've been better off without wishing, staying contented is sometimes to be cold and settled. Quickly thereafter receiving this last request of my heart, the boots were slipped off of me, perhaps you took them back, dear Care. I felt the fortune drain out through the tips of my toes following closely after those boots. And as if it had never begun, my imagined couple ended with only a joking, "I can't take you anywhere," for closure.

Well boots, I dearly miss my poetry. The maid's token of fortune merely had awakened and enhanced my thirst for the poetics and quickly after that never-begun-ending and sometime during the following existensial crisis the daisical way of playing around with words came back to me.
Only to die off again.
And now I find myself in a coupled seat without those boots and I wish slightly I felt given to writing verse about these happenings.

Alas, I am silent. {En d'autres termes, je suis muette}

However, I am actually very happy without the moon-eyed sensations clouding all my senses. Do you want to know what's more delightful than wishes? Knowing you make someone very happy when you laugh at their jokes, listen to what they say, spend an evening with them, when you can argue back, and especially when you kiss them.

Happily yours
Love,
Marge