You've done it again.
My interest in you
is piqued and I can't
help but want to meet
you - the cynical,
humourless girl.
I agree, we should
meet in a public
place. Though, I'd
prefer if you didn't
stab me with a fork
if I introduce myself.
I send off this letter
and lean back
on my bed.
I wonder what I'll
wear - maybe I'll
pull a joke and dress
in attire fit for a
murderer. Or maybe
I should just dress
normally. Who knows
if your humourlessness
is infectious?