Speaking indirectly with you...

Speaking indirectly with you drives me in circles. There is no point, no beginning, no end. You think you’re on some exclusive wavelength of truth. Infiniti is just a concept. Don’t talk to me about the eternal. Atheists don’t believe in eternity. Yes, atheists have beliefs. How dare you speak in parable form! That is reserved for Biblical figures, like Jesus. No, I do not worship icons. The next time I order a husband from the catalog of the universe I will specify that I want an open mind and a responsive heart. I do not want to entertain the idea – not even consider the idea – of engaging in a conversation with someone with a wicked laugh. It haunts me to think I noticed you first, to think I chose you, to think I believe we had a future together. You prefer orange juice to mango juice. That’s ironic. What kind of an African are you? The description said “African exposed to Western ideas, culture and music who is not wed to his career, who is open to travel, who does not use capitalization in e-mail, who speaks at least three languages and who loves to do the twist.” You misrepresent yourself. You are brilliant, sensitive, passionate, misguided, callous, and self-absorbed. You are a walking contradiction. Thank God there’s a word for it – contradiction. I love to dance. Yes, that’s the perfect idea. We should go dancing together. I’m open to the possibilities.