Mr. Scratchy, Herman; been a few days since I left you a note. Hope all is well on your end.
Rainy day here. Humid.
I imagine you checking in tonight, a cup of coffee at your side, working on that unfinished painting that I mentioned like a year ago. Yes, I still think you paint/draw for some reason.
Dressed in nothing but your underwear. Grey of course. And I think you might be covered with paint splats. Which I might add, is a sexy look for a man.
Anyways, I imagine you reading this, biting your bottom lip, a smirk on your pale lips. I also think you missed me the last few days without a note.
Alright Herman, my little twist of barbed wire, try not to bump into anything in those dark shadows.
p.s. If you want to hear the song I keep referring to, it's on the Nashville soundtrack volume one "Twist of Barbed Wire" by Johnathan Jackson.... yeah the cosmic joke hits from every side. You know, if you really are a Johnathan, it's going to be priceless.
Hope I brought a smile to your face.
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