I hope you aren't the sort to read into an absence of letters and assume a correlating absence of interest. If you are, let me persuade you by saying I recall vividly the way the candlelight made shadows rise and fall across the muscles in your arms. I wish I'd spent more time kissing them. Yesterday I attended an art exhibit where a pantheon of half-dressed gods played amongst the clouds, and their chisled marble bodies weren't nearly so appealing. I wonder, has anyone ever painted you?

This was from my collection but I think the scent suits you better. It's from Spain. Please do let me know if you like it.

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