My Dearest Therianthrope,
I am writing this to you from on the road. It is my impression that the Zionists are everywhere. I visited a time machine earlier today and even though our edges were moving further out, my recollections of you were vivid as ever. Neon hues of you so vibrant I could taste them. Later on, I went inside a plastic death box and peered into the pits of hell, which were really more tide pools of hell than anything. All of that murky water reflecting the moonlight in such a way that the sea anemones shone purple. I felt sorry for them with no fingers inside to guide them. Then I closed the lid.
Remember you and I that one summer when my hair was that sandy brown colour and your race had become completely undefinable? We were so powerful then. I was reliving all those moments earlier while staring into a long mirror. I’m not sure if it was one of those trick ones but for the first time ever, I really liked what I saw. I briefly agonized over the possibility of it being a trick mirror before deciding it didn’t matter–perception is reality, as they say.
All of my love forever,
Memphis
