To Forfar on a Silver Salver

My boyfriend bought me a new pen. I wrote him the following sentences on a sheet of A4:

1. David, I love you. I love you, and I love your pen. I love the ink that flows from this pen. I love the ink that flows from you. Darling . . . you are delicious.
2. I wish we could go far far away, to Forfar. If Forfar is far enough for you, we should go far far to Forfar.
3. Sometimes I want to cut up my heart and serve you slices on a silver salver. You could eat slivers from the salver, slivers from the silver salver, slivers of my beating heart, beating inside you.

We went to see Robbie Williams that night. Then we went to see Gary Barlow. Then we saw Adele, Rihanna, Kelis, Pink and James Blunt in a rolling revue show. I kissed David so hard I fell down his throat and made a nest in his stomach. Inside, I ate some leftover chicken madras and peas from last night’s dinner. I love David!

Some say love is a difficult word to say. I say it to David four times a second. I creep up behind him, leap onto his shoulders and shout: “I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, darling David!” Relationships fail because not enough people buy their lovers pens and scream in their faces how much love is bursting inside their love-stuffed hearts.

David, David, David, David—love is all we need! Let me write another sentence for you, in loving italics:

When I was a little boy, I was afraid of the boogie man. I later learned the boogie man was only my uncle, and all he wanted was my ass for the night. As I obliged Uncle Boogie, I thought about this little kid I knew, only two years old. His father beat him every night and sent him down the pit nine hours a day, shovelling coal in the scorching heat. I looked deep into that boy’s eyes, and all I saw was fear and misery. When the boy turned four, he stabbed his father in the face and took over the house. I thought: what a positive message! What if we all went around stabbing evil people in the face?! Wouldn’t that make the world such a happier, lovelier place? I thought of your mother, David, the old witch blocking our love, and I stabbed her, David, I stabbed her in the neck, because she put up a fight and I couldn’t get her in the face. But happiness is ours, David! At last we can live in our house of endless love (if your dad helps bury the body).