Words feel deficient in the ability to convey my love to you. It would take a lexicographer years to define this love in its entirety. You are my vocation and every day I sit at my desk and work. My tasks consist of introspection, recreating your image from memory, and archiving your existence because it is historically significant. Your beauty is like a miracle, as if by god so I may believe. Your laughter and voice is a reference to makers of musical instruments. The reception of your embrace made warmth feel like a first encounter. Your proximity alters my perception of time. You are the active ingredient to my relief. I could collect everything you touch as though they’re the finest of treasures. I am in a state of mental disorder as normal functions are impaired by uncontrollable and reoccurring thoughts of you. Everything seems an interruption because my attention is for you. Your facial expressions are like cartography, I can read the meaning behind every contour and line. To make you frown is to deface Rothko’s ‘Black on Maroon’. You are so good, that I have become unimpressed by kindness. To associate yourself with me is another demonstration of Christ’s humility. Our union is a phenomenon, like the inosculation of two trees. If my words are considered poetry, then I credit you as the author, because it is you who guides me to them. I apologise if I insult you with any praise that lacks the excellence in which you merit. I would plagiarise the greatest verses in history, if it weren’t offensively lazy, because you deserve the likes of ‘A Red, Red Rose’. My ambition is to publish this text, to increase my love’s amount for you with each copy. I’ve stapled it onto utility poles throughout the city. I’ve vandalised by pasting large prints onto billboards and buildings. You are so inspiring, I believe you could make the most unskillful artists rival the old masters. I will continue to practice because if you were captured in the hands of a talented artist, you would live forever. I love you. And if a moment comes that I no longer love you, it will be because I’ve died and my legacy is that I loved you.