Dearest William

Dearest William,
 
 

        I shall always remember your face... in the freezer.  You know I always loved you, even if you did not return my affections.  I never really wondered why, why you did not love me.  Maybe its better I don't ask, maybe that is the way it was meant to be.  Oh well, I guess we will never know, now will we?

        I am so sorry it had to be this way.  It really wasn't my fault, you see it was her!  She drew the line.  Her flirty eyes, her long tempting legs. . . and those sexy little toes.  You just couldn't stand it, could you?  You just couldn't resist those toes!  Maybe she deserves to join you. William love, is the basement slab too cold for your backside, as you sit there headless?

        The words your tongue first gave me were so  . .  So enchanting.  She didn't deserve them.  Perhaps that is why I served it to my Sunday guests last weekend.  They didn't know the difference.  You were so very sweet my love.

        You always did complain about what a rotting, stinking hole this was.  That, dear William, is why I did you such a good service.  I sewed your eyelids shut, love.  Though of course that was only after prying your eyes from that precious head of yours so that you could only look upon my living room from the mantle.  Aren't you proud of me?  I take such good care of you.  It's a shame it took you so long to realize that only I can love you as you should be loved.

        Every time we met, my dearest, you complimented me,  Me and my perfume of Tea Roses and Jasmine.  "You smell lovely", you always said.  So that you can only smell me, as you begun to loose breath with the rope around your neck, I painted your nose with my perfume.  So you wouldn't forget William sweet, I sawed delicately, the bone that held your nostrils tight.  It now floats dreamily, and free in a brand spanking new bottle of my sweet perfume.  The one you liked so very much.

        I'm sorry, William dear, that I never met up to your hands qualifications.  It was not my fault my mother was small, and her mother before her.  I promise I'll make it up to you.  I saved your hands, saved them from your roving eye, and perverse imagination.  I cut them from your wrists and upon my night stand they sit where they come to use quite often as not in the middle of the night when I need a manly touch.

        Your ears dangle fashionably on a stylish golden string above the stereo where you can hear our favorite song, my love, over and over, and over again.   You served many uses alive, my dear William, and as much as I hate to burst your bubble, you serve many, many more dead!

                                                                           Love Lily,
                                                                              Your one and only

 

Ps. I hope you know William my love, a part of you will always be with me! xoxoxo