My dearest Goblin,
though the summer days float by as gently as linen floats on a breeze, my mind has been nothing if not turbulent with the thought of you. While flowers bloom and bees swarm jubilantly awaiting their nectar, the only being so sweet weighing on my mind is you. Your kind smile, green skin, and cozy sweater have naught but enamored me, mind, body, and soul. The words, wavering across your dash, have engrained themselves into my mind like delicate carvings upon a fine wooden sculpture: eat moss. Such sweeter, truer words have never been spoken. Should we ever cross paths outside of this realm, outside of anonymous, passionate homosexual love letters, then I should enjoy nothing more than to eat moss with you. Together, let us graze upon the finest moss there is, or will ever be, let the birds sing their melodious songs, and let the stars share our joy and love. I shall be awaiting this momentous occasion.
Yours, affectionately,
anon
Dear Anon,
Your poem was beautiful, it brought tears to my eyes. I wish I knew who you are, my dearest Anon.
If you wish to make moss eating plans, do not fear to contact me again! Your message has brought me emmense joy.
Yours, lovingly,
Pebble
