Hi… remember me?
I believe I’ve met you a few times over the last 12 years.
I don’t know if you remember me but I remember you!
You see, I’m writing this letter not just to say hello or to try and get some…
I just wanted to write this letter to say that I have got nothing but love for you.
And I appreciate you and everything you do!
I know you’ve been through a lot and everyday you are forced to deal with my representatives trying to meet you… but when was the last time someone wrote to you just to say thank you?
Just to say, ‘thanks for the meeting’, nice to meet ya? Or thanks for transforming into a birth vehicle that delivered me?
It’s probably been a while. But that’s okay, hopefully this letter will make up for lost time.
I’ve met you in many shades, shapes, sheens and grins and every time has been a pleasure. Okay, SOMETIMES, it’s been more of a chore and other times, it’s been a travesty but I’ve still appreciated you.
I know it seems like men don’t stop and give you t the right love and respect you deserve but hopefully this letter will be the start of a new day.
Being the all-powerful body part you are, you know what you are capable of doing to me and many others like me. You know how to smile and frown in a way that makes me feel you shivering up my spine.
From my first days when I was allowed the finger introduction to you, I was an addict, though the scent of you was confusing at first. But then, after I got to meet you a few more times, I began to like you more and more.
And it’s been that way ever since.
Now I’m not afraid to look you in your one eye and engage in some rhymthic conversation at any time.
Now I’m a grown ass man, I can look at you close up and imagine talking to you… because sometimes I just like to watch you.
That’s right, I watch you.
At all times.
When your wrapped up warm.
Filled with tissue for your nose when it’s time for your monthly break in conversation.
Drying up and not letting ANYONE talk to you, not even yourself.
The stutters in conversation that make your back arch.
The lines, the curves, the folds, the talking points…
I’m ALWAYS watching you.
I’d be a fool not to.
From the first time I met you in a bed situation, when your owner squeezed her thighs together and made me think that I was meeting you, up to the day when I made you stutter 27 times, I love and appreciate you Vag.
You’ve been a wonder since you taught me how to breathe, how to live and you were the first place I left that actually made me cry… BUT…
I still love you…
I love you more than my own nipples. It’s always been you. Even though your dirtier sister round the back also likes to try and talk to me sometimes, its always you I’m thinking of.
She can get the hell on!!!
There is never a day when I don’t think about you. Wonder about what you’re doing… or who’s doing you… are they giving you the RIGHT conversation?
And coming in so many variations, its a wonder I haven’t become a professional conversationalist.
Fat folds, flaps and fine lines
Lips, labia and small talk
Secreting, leaking, mouth kinda Jay Z-ing
Small ting, thin, Tesco bagging
I don’t care which one you are… I’m just talking about you.
Clean, tasty, looked after you!
The you I’ve loved to talk to for so long, never running out of things to say, always a smile on a dry day.
I would to say thanks.
It’s been a pleasure meeting you as many times as I have and I cannot wait to meet you all over again to engage in what can only be called heavenly conversation for the mind, body and soul of you…
So next time you see me, know that there is more than masturbation on my mind.
If I start singing Tevin Campbell’s Can We Talk upon our next meeting, you know what I’m thinking…
I’m thinking of you…
Yours FOREVER (my lady),