I’ve been waiting for the longest, now. I still don’t how much longer I’m going to have to wait. But I’m waiting—patiently, though. Remember what you told me last spring. You promised to comeback no matter what. You told me no matter how steep the mountain was, you will find a way to climb, and I will be right here waiting at the foot of this hill. I wish I knew the way that would lead me to your path. In the morning, before the sun rises from behind the mountains, I go on my daily pilgrimage under the tangerine tree praying God for your return. I’m afraid I’m losing faith, now. Will this ever come true? I can only speak to you in my dream, now. And every night I go to sleep, wishing to forever remain in my sleep, the only venue left at my disposal to savor once more your smile, your charms, and your infinite voluptuousness. Isabelle mon amour, how much longer do I have to wait?
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