Alice, what`s the matter with thee ?

Dear Alice,
I have the need to confess. I am in love with you. Your folly and the way you hide in the forest, in the city, behind a tree is the most turn on that I ever felt. You do not tell the truth in the magazine. I do not mind, Alice, I love you. I have hunted for you for more days than I care to count. In the cities and in the parks, behind trees, in passing cars, day in, day out. To tell you the truth, the way that it be, Alice, the new man in me is following the love of his life, a passing fad ?, no, no! This is why I keep writing, searching, attempting to plead. In my last letter to thee, Alice ma cherie, I attempted to rush you to come running to me. I know you`ve read it, ma cherie and weighed the pros and cons of unmasking the deal, of appearing. I am great looking, I have fixed up my dreadlocks and took those nasty hair from my nostrils. Do you like it, Alice, is this sufficient to seduce you to my romantic party ?
The king and the queen, the red rabbit, the scrape rainbow sky surfer will be invited, I guess that we need witnesses or the papparazi will paste another face on my mulatto perfect grin, oh...that of someone who needs a tame bride, a sexy laugh that agrees it`s funny, someone that don`t hide like you, behind bushes, in the city, in passing cars and rainbow gowns. Blue hair and brown stockings...was it you, my darling ? Snow sweeping grey boots on the sidewalk, was it thee or just my folly attempting to stop the stress of having to find the girl, you, my dear, hiding. For the purpose of making it last longer, that courtship. I have no say, in grey wig and dark make up, you may choose to appear, this friday, or send someone who looks like thee, Alice, my baby. I am red in the face: You`re reading this, you looking at me ! In my dream gate I put a cigarette, sometimes with something magical gratted in it. The green weeds on both sides of the street may choose to ravel me. In the city, in a bus, behind your curtain or naked on page 3. I am sorry for hunting thee, I am sorry if your folly often makes me cringe: When will you be ? By my side, in a park, in a movie theater, laughing at your disguising. Alice, in this city, I have planted some spies, Raphael, Uriel and some godly servants in loincloths and spreaded see-through wings. I asked: Find her, make her be in the seat next door to me. The pilgrims follow the penguin. In the looking glass I see you kissing me. Demain. I sit, Alice and wait for thee. Here. Maybe you won`t come this time again. Maybe you`ll send your lawyer or the police. Maybe, Alice, I will find the courage to talk to thee near a tree. In black flowing hair, short red locks or what-ever. I am sincere, my dear. If you come to me I will appear from the hollow tree where I nest, patient, my dear. I will over all take all in. Post a letter, leave a note for me, an email would be enough to unmask thee. In your tree waiting for my hand to take you by the ears and put you where you belong: Here with me, darling.
If you have read, raeders and wonder what is this stitch, you may, someday unravell this story and figure out...that it was me. Aleph Alpha, dear-lover, sky-scraper, with a clean face and smoothe shaved ears. Again running around and attempting to catch SHE. In the sea, I love you, my darling...be seating, the movie`s starting! If you read this in passing pick a gown, change the story...in the beginning, from end to start, the purple swallow, the marching bands, the looking glass and that hole. Spiralled.
I tell you here, Alice, come to me, I will dress thee in new colours. Some of them don`t exist. In my hole, in the tree, I face the consequences, cherie, I agree to run and seek but you must agree to marry me...once I find thee, once I catch thee, silly queen! In a barn, next to a motorway side restaurant, in Hungary, I will make you be my bride and think that it was (after all) very funny...after all it was funny, darling to search for you in the ravines, behind bushes, in certain streets, hiding and proudly embracing the songs that make my keys, tapping around your feet, looking through the mirror ball and make your rare colours beam towards me. If someone else claim thee, another man I mean, he may get you instead of me only so long as he has searched you and stressed (was it she, where is she ?) as much as me, lilly, lady, as much as me! Then he may take you away and bride you in his chosen dress, so long as he has seen, beauty, so long as he has chased you, bright, grimmed and free, like me. I do, I do, I do, cherie ! I do, dear Alice.