You’re a scholar. I have started to notice this recently, these tiny eccentricities. But, you are far too beautiful to be an intellectual. Perhaps, though, you are not beautiful. I must confess, I deem your beauty to be of the poetic type. People make of it what they may. Dark, yes. And yet, everything else is observed to be a quality of a learned person. I am quiet around you for fear of sounding stupid. But, I also enjoying listening to you. That voice in your head as you write letters. Sitting behind a majestic desk, sitting in bed. Dim lights and dark thoughts. Weathered and beautiful, like the words cast upon the paper.