Letter

Letter from a distinguished gentleman.

          May 13th, 1604

Dear Daisy,

I am in shambles with special needing of your oration beloved, mustn't the sweet of bitterness incur my tolerance of such need for simplicity. I am convoluted to sink myself in deep circumstances and seek validation in the trivialities of my imagination. I hold evoked a sense, and bearer, tantalized myself in preposterous needless fine art, to notify, akin the withhold of the unknown in your welcome my Daisy. Only the contemporaneous day, must, avail propensity of disaster vortices but agitated dawn, unveiling my sex against habitual moral conscience. I had consented in my devotion to commute my vulgarity of feeble work, a great deal imposingly laborious, in which I will be shortened. To abide by the promise of my devotedness of mere shortsighted, and biased reaffirmation of self-altruistic redundancy, flavorless demeanors, and, much voracious heed of your absence turned a dimness of agitated somber. I will await the refinery rawness gem, in your orator pulpit, Miss Daisy.

You’re utmost men, 

     Causebon Wright.

May 27th, 1604

Dear Causebon,

O’ righteous mighty, how shortsighted of irony, I funded you, mustn’t you figure the grand as a fable? Dogs are often playful for food, nay, a rare sight barking at their landlord. Do treat my unconditional love, not thee�"often leeching inane of allowance, and regardless of your conscience doing, as foul of filths, such monotony dare not be my priority. My betrothed against thee�"mere short of a simple affair, no more than affray of a Maltese squirrel in the pastoral. Causebon, dear. Have you had the conscientiousness of your filths decorous in the comprehensiveness of Dorothea accord? Do not belie your ideal, ingenious one, the grandiose in thee had compromised such fitness erred do not fit my appetite.

        Best regards,

Daisy Rosabelle.