Write me something beautiful, something bold, something new. Write me a melody even Mozart couldn’t compose. Write me a sonnet even Shakespeare couldn’t think up. Serenade me with the writing utensil of your liking, whether it be a pen or a paintbrush, or a stick in the sand. I don’t care… anything will suffice.
Write me a love poem, a hate poem, a poem about my hair, or my feet, or my bad morning breath. I don’t care what it’s about, so long as I know it’s written by you. I want to be able to imagine your voice telling me these things because it came from your heart.
Write me your every thought; even the silly ones, and the crass ones, and the sad ones, and the repressed ones. Write me the lyrics of the song stuck in your head. Write me something raw and raunchy, elegant and eloquent, pretty and precise, sloppy and slovenly. Write to me until your hands cramps, or until you feel like you’ve said it all. Write to me because for me, the written word speaks so much louder than word of mouth. Write me anything.