Love Letter

Come away with me, Seth.

There is a castle by the sea where the stone is raw from the sun and salt, and coastal flowers climb up to fill the eaves. Morning glory and sea bindweed - that's what one of the many books in the castle's library say. Hundreds of them, bound in fine leather, their pages worn by the love of earnest fingers. It's beautiful, Seth.

You are beautiful.

A white picket fence keeps the gardens from spilling out onto the beach - but only barely, you should see the tomatoes in late spring. We would eat them for days, have them with every meal - tomato soup, tomato toast, tomato salad, roasted tomato, and the finest red sauce. And how could I forget the peaches? The plums? The apples, oranges, and pomegranates that grow aplenty in the grove. Peppers and carrots shoot up from raised beds, and rosemary borders the castle to fill every morning with its herbal greetings. The gardens await us.

I await you.

There is a castle by the sea, and it calls for you. My springtime leisure, my summer getaway, my autumn respite, my winter escape. I go there when I need the ocean air to clear my head of all the royal chatter, all the noble dinners, all the papers that fill my desk and letters that demand my ink. Surely, you must feel it, too. To run away for a weekend, let loose your long hair, smiling bright to the sun as it warms your skin and tempts out your soft freckles.

I go there for the quiet, where it is only the crash of the waves and the distant call of birds, the whisper of coastal grasses and the smell of salt in the air. Hoping it will all still my restless heart, and yet still it yearns-

Come away with me, Seth.

I want you to be the only thing on my mind,
Leveret