I write from my heart to your heart. It is early morning and I am stirring. I am thinking about how tomorrow you will come to me How you will climb into my bed, climb into me. Cum into me. My heart wants all of that. Even the cum.

Falling in love with you has brought softness to my being. It has humbled me. It has given me a tap on the shoulder and reminded me that my own mind, my own ego, is just another place to hang out, and not the only game in town. My intellect was the star quarterback of my academic career. My ego, the prom queen (of course).

Faith, hope, and love intersect to create romance. The intellect does not appreciate romance.

It is early. It is, in fact, morningtime. I have wandered into spiritual territory where I am clumsy, even beyond the predawn hour. But I want to stumble here for a minute, if only to vaguely suggest to you where I want to go with you…or at least to give you a nod in a general direction.