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Dear Alexander,
I hope your pinup studies are going well.
I find myself missing you more and more with each passing day.
From the moment the words left your lips that you missed me, sitting there in a stranger's bathroom, with a quiet artificial fire warming your soul, my perspective changed.
I already thought of you every day of this entire year, but it was with a kind of distant longing. The way one covets a particularly fancy cheesecake in the window of a high scale bakery.
Now I realize that you could actually be mine. The entire cheesecake. Or no, the chef himself. And I am famished, Alexander.
Feed me sticky buns full of desire, soft velvet mousses of pleasure, and decadent towering cakes of need, until I am so wantonly full that I cannot beg for another bite. Then wrap me in your warm embrace, and let us close our eyes and sleep the most peaceful sleep of our souls' thousand-year entandre.
What I mean is, I want you. I like you. I find your soul enchanting.
I hope these images find you well, the ones I share with others and the ones just for you.

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