It is me and you, part one.

Now, all i know is that i have oonly just prepared your beautiful dinner and you left the table complaining you hardly deserved it. I slaved and slaved forever in this kitchen without a thought for myself, so you can't so calmly dismiss it, or me (who cared so much), even if you have since reflected on this scenario with self degredation. You walked in the room, you looked for some place to sit, and you glared at me with a face removede of hope, lacking hunger, and missing any emotions. Your eyes were dead. I knew there was eating all but nevver to occur and it affected me morally. You I pretty much left to feel you were undeserving. But I have since amended the most glaring of subtleties and supposed reaching such a notion you would like demands, known to be essential, and so now my view is fortuitous. I have said nothing, nor done anything only to gather as much as goes to us - the craziest nature adoration imagined in us and we remember the kitchen in its clarity and in its cleanliness. We immediately contextualised like deserted potatoes our thriving and acted alteration and discussed every distance which, whether is true or untrue, gives away the function that finished with compassion the elegance of scculpted growth. But down, down, in your town, and all that.... it was just a kitchen... you say it was just a kitchen. Well, yes, i'll give you that. But think of this: All these rooms are created dissimilarly, so next time you leave one of them so despondently, remember, it may not welcome you back as happily as it could. And remember, the most startling truth is as sparkling as a correspondence with God. I want you to know that... to remember it... but you won't. You won't.

Next of all, here i am at the riverside, and in every sense the customer of water. I am happy to be sitting here, it's true, with you and we are together. And never mind that we can see across the way a lake, and forget the paddleboats that look so inviting. The premise is the thought the towel has saved us today, and look! No ants - but the flies; never mind them. Us; we; us with our strawberry cheesecake desserts and bottle of white wine chilling nicely in its bucket... We have made a meal of such wonderful tastes, but you, again, are despondent. You have so cleverly; so wisely; so happily left my spirit, and i want you back with me, here, so we can be like wine, chill on ice, admire, admire, admire all events, be crystal in our eyes; and clear, clear in compunction. It is our diction that, mattering more through thrills, concerns us and together before time, contains us.

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