My love, I have tried with all my being to grasp a form comparable to thine own, but nothing seems worthy; I know now why Shakespeare could not compare his love to a summer’s day. It would be a crime to denounce the beauty of such a creature as thee, to simply cast away the precision God had placed in forging you. Each facet of your being whether it physical or spiritual is an ensnarement from which there is no release. But I do not wish release. I wish to stay entrapped forever. With you for all eternity. Our hearts, always as one. "abhi" for div. . . . .