x,
the corn is already taller than me. it’s awhile since i’ve eaten from the cob — forgot how it polka dots the stool.
if you were here, i’d get in my pig suit and you’d dress-up like farmer bob. i’d thrash around the yard of wet mud and you’d have to tackle me and hold me down as i slithered underneath yr clutch.
i miss you.
xo,
d