Dear Man in the Moon,
If I could jump into cartoon land, I'd be Betty Boop. I'd lasso you and pull you right down here. You would flail and buck as I struggled with the rope, but your frightened look would melt away when I came into view, catching my breath and batting my eyelashes. Your crazy moon face would split into a toothy grin. Then I'd kiss you just so.
I don't think you're made out of cheese.
All those guys can shoot their rockets and drive around in their lunar rovers and take their samples. They can scrutinize and chart, peer through their telescopes and scratch their chins. I don't care. I know better.
I love you.
You go on and take care of moon business up there. I'll take care of Erin business down here. We can meet in the middle when the stars align properly and when they don't, no worries.
I can wait.
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