'In the old days at home the Neverland had always begun to look a little dark and threatening by bedtime. Then unexplored patches arose in it and spread, black shadows moved about in them, the roar of the beasts of prey was quite different now, and...
i wonder what you did with Dinah after all that. i hope her paws are tangled in your heart strings (really, i do, Baby). i'm sat on a park bench, not far from the zoo (we were meant to go, but never did) thinking what i'd do if you were to walk by. i'm wearing the leggings that you like, (and really, nothing's changed about me.) i'm thinking how it's strange that no one smiles at each other here, and wonder if you'd smile at me or simply pass me by. i hope you'd stop and catch my eye -- and what would we do after that? with hands that know every indent, dimple, each pointing bone, (my hips are starting to jut again) the softness of certain spots -- the asymmetry of my ribs, the heat and pulse of my muscles. but you never seemed to want to touch me, you were never dying to undress me (and you called me a nympho for that --) perhaps i was just a little crazy. and much too much in all ways. and how is Dinah now? did you draw her red face well? (it took you years to complete that) and that's all. if you walk past me in the city do tell me how is Dinah doing after all?
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