I have been thinking of you all the time, in bed, in the shower, in all sorts of funny places like that. I have put some poetry that echoes in my soul on paper, just for you. You have to fill in the blank spaces, but don't write them in in case your mother finds it. Oh Zelda, Zelda, when I see the moon at night I think of the glorious nights we spent under the same golden glow, and the stars remind me of the tiny lights I saw in your eyes on those long languid evenings after sunset, when we lay on the riverbank together. In the universe of my life you, Zelda, are the sun about which all meaning and truth and beauty revolve. Without you, my life would be as the earth without gravity: a vacuum, asterile lifeless monotony relieved only by bitter-sweet memories. Memories of those few, those all too brief, those pain and pleasure days of our togetherness. I love you, love you, love you, my sweetheart, my life. It is almost as much as I can bear to wait until May. Won't it be fantastic? Just like the night in the car — remember — when I bent the handbrake.