I'm sick of these lousy actresses

Dear Peter,

I use an A4 year diary as my notebook.
As I write this I am crossing through Tuesday 14th February and eating an avocado.
I don't care about my hips.
By Wednesday you will note you recieved no card.
I imagine that by Wednesday you might be angry.

Peter, I went to see Memoirs of a Geisha.
I want feet folded like flowers.
I want you to want my feet folded like flowers.
I want Saki and broth, for my first kimono to be green
to show I am clean of past affection.
I will let them see that I am intact and know how to blush.

Peter, it's a Monday. A full moon Monday.
On the carpet I have stuck red bindis made out of fuzzy felt,
I animated a cartoon of your face when you read this letter.

By Wednesday I will be Bengali
with a benarasi sari, my hair in a khopa and three inch heels.

All the parts are taken Peter.