What wonderful vibrations you are capable of. May you be as vivid as your hallucinations. Your layers of absinthe and torsion form concretions of hyper-alimentation. Your beauty is equal to the smoothness of a polished gem. If I could have just one wish, it would be to wake up to your songs in the morning. The sand runes crossing your divided consciousness do speak of contemptuous monsters being slayed by flying phoenixes. I relentlessly desire cotton candy lollipops. The music that flows from your instruments overwhelms me with creativity. You ever remind me of the enigma of happy thoughts I once forgot. Panoramic aromavision is the future. The stickers hugging the fruit smell better than the perfume of ambergris. Polished rock candy comes ever to mind when thinking of you. In your absence I am forced into finding other forms of amusement while thinking about you. So charmingly silky, your skin is like a teardrop on a popsickle. Wood nymphs sprinkle your path with rose petals while you dance and prowl in the sequined moonlight with leftover cupcake sprinkles.
