The Cliff Notes to My Last Letter

1st Section
The (presumably crippled) writer of this palimpsest professes that love is a verb (building, v) a process which just as it arrives at a noun (building, n.) transforms into something else entirely.
So it goes. - Kurt Vonnegut

2nd section
The writer challenges the (lovely) correspondence that “he always shows up” with a memory of hearing the correspondent playing on his porch and feeling too high or drunk to be seen by her in public.
It may be noted that the writer has taken some small pains and borrowed a small fortune against his inheritance to come to better terms with his addictions. He enrolls in rehab this coming Monday.

3rd section
The writer suggests the cliche, “Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a battle you cannot know.” May have some bearing on her current situation. Allow grace… but take no shit. You are the goddess Kira-Ma, after all.

4th Section
Whereas the writer loses the metaphor of objectivity amidst fears of apocalyptic change (NB: the Greek:)
In relaying the obligatory news from the Vortex, of kids and dogs (Ruby is digging her some quarantine-the packs all here) elders (Howard is more Elvish than ever) Mom has got the Fear and a - literal - pain in the neck. Otherwise, all protagonists are virus-free.
The writer then turns to the sad news that Amy is no longer Jubilee!’s Minister of Ritual and Magic. I wish our Board of Directors gave her more time for the spell to set, but they know grimoire better than I. Hope we are more respectful next try.

5th Section
Whereas the writer, happy in his studio, wishes you were here or I was there just the same. Wishes you were relating some deep unseen heart wisdom while walking with the dog in the front 40 just in time to crest the Oak Tree Hill to see the first bluebird of Spring. Wishes you saw the thall in his face as a dolphin nosed his leg slipping the stream beyond the surf. All of which is to say,

How the hell are you anyway?