Dear Metamore

       Dear Metamore,

 

Hi. How are you?

Two years ago, in the time that was the 1st full moon after the 1st of summer, I conjured you up. I made you bones and sang to you, to make you real. I found my notes, I know what you look like. I think I could make you again, if I need to.

I made you for another and I made you for myself. I knew to make some of your skills/talents/attributes vague, to cast a wider net.

I cast the net wide; you were to be sexual compatible, but that wouldn’t mean you had to be a cis-man.

You could have been a AMAB NB and still fit the bill.

But now I don’t know. I broke that spell, and sent you off.

We could have been friends. I could see us at the bar, after seeing a Marvel movie, Colt and Matthew not getting on how you and me get along.

It would have been nice to be a foursome.

I miss you; I love you. Maybe I can make you again, I don’t know.

Love,
Amer