donna: behind every strong woman there is another strong woman

My wolf-eyed queen. I remember seeing you for the first time, walking down the halls of that great British monastery in your Italian leather thigh-high boots. I remember women's studies class became like a holiday in which we would raise our hands faithfully like good old patriots raise the flag. Breaking into offices to do more work at 4am when the library had closed. Laughing at almost everyone all the time and loving it. Ah, ten years ago — ah, now 12 years ago. Shelves have landed on my head. You almost scared my Californian lover to death with your earthquake-causing romps. I have been pregnant with your love-child, been married to you. You put me on the New York VIP list, and ever since I have been in love with the wit, the charms, the brains, the unpolished perfection of laughter gone wild, lived free and open...

Let's do it all together. Yeah, let's do it all imperfectly.

To the queen of love letters and the details of words, the secrets of my depths are entrusted to you, my love.

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