To Pluto and Jane and all the rest,
I talked to that innocent broken heart of a boy yesterday, Jane. And he really does love you. He said he you were in his English class and he said he fell in love with your raspberry lips and your golden hair and the way you always looked like a precious metal or a supernova being born. The way you made his heart burst in his chest and the way he died of euphoria if you even glanced his way. We actually talked for a while. Longer than I thought I could tolerate talking to any boy. And he's not gold like you or red like Pluto. He's simply blue. When he looked over at you and started crying those sapphire tears, I laid my hand on his to comfort him. And he gave a new bundle of roses to me which he intended for you. And that's when I feared that not only was I losing the old Jane, I was becoming the new one.
Signed, Marigold
