on throwing love;

please, be careful love, of throwing love, at lovers; my love.

love may not always land where you wish it to land. your aim is seldom acurate, and often wild and unpredictable.

also, to throw love at ones face is both perilous, and quasi-flirtatious, neither terribly indictable, but both being most certainly lucrative.

in turn, i offer you a letter my love, on love, in love. as a return toss of my love, to where ever it may land, i pray you accept it graciously wherever. be it your face, your elbow, your rotator cuff or your fanny, may it land with the most unpretentious grace. i sound like a 50 year old. 2001. the chronic.

below:
a picture i took, while at my most favourite place in the whole world.