Pessimism is ubiquitous today. You have the ability to relieve some.
I probably will never be published how and where I want to.
Until I found out you might be willing to publish on me.
I want you to appropriate my skin, and I will appropriate your word, and we will make sweet literary love with needle and ink.
I may be a year to late and 20,000 requests behind, but my skin is young and aching to transcend the limited communication of dimple constellations.
I hope you'll consider me for a word.