Peaeater

Dear Edgar,

Your willy-nilly approach to acupuncture has left me breathless, specifically "chest wound", to whit, "sucking". My lawyers inform me, through the creative use of a flugelhorn, that the degree you claim was granted by Johns Hopkins is in fact written in orange crayola and signed "Big Bird". They also claim that "Ginsu needles" are non-standard equipment, that "galvanized" does not equate to "sterile",  and that penetration of 3-6 inches is atypical and should not require the aid of a mallet.

Oh Eggnog, I thought you loved me. I trusted you, Eidelwild. How could I say no to your nasal glottal fricative, your bulgy-wulgy eyes, your rubber gloves? I gave you my heart and you inexpertly sewed it back in again backwards. And yet, Estragon, and yet -- I still harbour something for you, deep inside. When I close my eyes I can hear the hiss of the gas, the clink of the clamps on their little tray, the mambo of your mesmerizing mumble...

Oh, I cannot hold back these dizzying waves of passion. Come, my Elgreen! My pancreas aches for your caress! Clamp me to the table of love, pierce the veil of my milky integument with the red and rusted scalpel of your desire, lay your hands upon my virgin islets of Langerhans! I cannot wait to lie woozy and exhausted in your arms afterwards, as you drag me off the slab.

I will come tonight and bring my own bandages, my mad, mad, darling Doktor.

Love,

B.O.F.