Misti Rainwater-Lites		Love is Quite Splendid, Dody She's junked out again on sodium rich cheese snacks, cheap cola emboldened with cheap vodka, menthol cigarettes and strawberry vanilla flavored maximum strength cold and flu cough syrup. Look at the pitiful debris…broken Motown records, mangled mix tapes, photographs ripped to shreds, beheaded PEZ dispensers, slices of Garden Fanatic's pizza super glued to the walls. Looks like Colton is not returning Dody's calls. But I will tell Dody if she asks: Love is quite, splendid, Dody if you take yourself out of the equation. Forget yourself for a moment. I know it isn't easy. Wherever you go, there you are. You're clumsy and in the way of your own peace of mind. It can make a cuckoo robot out of a perfectly adroit and balanced human being. Don't think of the roses not sent, the diamonds not worn, the bad cunnilingus and the nights staring at walls hoping they'll melt and you'll find yourself in a whole new pixie dusted world of shared ecstasy and talking dandelions. Look at the couples painted in rich oils, dancing for all eternity or until the storage unit burns down a most exquisite passionate graceful waltz. Their faces are flushed yet composed. You can almost hear the cellos and the galloping of their moonbit hearts. Something went right for them and someone who was glad painted it. Then there is the carousel to consider. You cannot sit and watch a carousel, any carousel, for any length of time without shedding at least three tears. The gaily painted animals decorated with sugar high children go around and around. Nothing stops the carousel. Love is not specific. Love goes and goes and goes. It is an odor you inhale daily even if you don't want to. It's an itch you can scratch until bloody. There is no satisfaction. There is no stopping. Dody, I am so sorry to report but you must know… there really is no end in sight.