I wanted to send you a valentine but the card had not been written which held the sentiment I wanted and your door was guarded by trolls. 
 
I uphold the pagan ceremony of fertility and fulfilment of lust and love and longing and I so want to frolic in the meadows of your thighs. 
 
I am a modern day martyr like the valentines before me hiding emotion in the smile behind which I suppress a longing. 
 
Raise the portcullis of your chastity and disgard the seedless cuckold who taints your nightly chamber and let the shaft of cupid enter through the pool of your delight. 
 
I spend this 14th day of February as I spend the days before it painting pictures of our picnics in the hope of some day basking. 
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