My Dearest,
I long for you. I long for your cracked pepper seasoned carnita pork, the way your sour cream feels against my nubile arms. These aged cheeks have been aged by experience, 15 hard years of experience, but feel that the youthful vigor inspired by your corn salsa rejuvinates (sic) my body. This must be love.
Please, if you could prepare yourself and sear yourself in my mind with chicken and sensual black beans, along with some hot (never mild, you are too hot) salsa, a touch of sour cream, like the sour taste I feel when you are not near, and smothered in cheese, more cheese than your heart can hold for me. A touch of guacamole to top off my endearing young spicy lover, and please wear that tortilla that you wore when we first met. Seeing you wrapped up in that sleek tortilla reminds me once again what sexual pleasure can be, and when I touch you to my lips it reminds me of those teasing advances you made when i first purchased one of you.
Do not despair. I will have you soon, and we will combine to be one. One burrito and man incarnate(ita, I'm sorry, I could not resist).
My mind says no... but I will be flying down to pick you up in nigh 10 minutes. Don't tease me, and don't make me wait.
Also, I'd like a small coke.
Yours forever,
M.
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