Dear Letter C:
Your deepest desire is sky blue, and I have loved you like line loves paper. You complete me. I am a mere catalog of inhuman fantasy, but who in the holographic universe really gives a flying future? Desire is a strand of sparkling curling ribbon adorning the package we call union. What magic destroys the edges of purple leaking into our blue, burning paradise? What keeps us protected from green, from an insidious viridian?
-L
