Littered around the house on colourful folded up paper you will find a multitude of love notes waiting for you. I've placed some out in the open (on the inside of the shower door, the bathroom mirror, the side of the fridge, on the piano bench, stuck to your laptop, etc) and some not as visible to the eye without some laborious work put into the search. I can't tell you where they all reside, but I can tell you that you will find thirty-three in total, so until you've been up, down, and around the house enough times to locate each and every one, I don't want you to call it quits. I can't promise that Rocco's toys aren't free of notes, just so you know. With that being said, you might want to look through his heaps of stuffed animals, blocks, and books. I think you'll be proud of me knowing how much work I had to do in the early hours of the morning when you were actually managing to get a few hours of sleep before going into the studio. I need to preface by saying that I didn't write all of these, though I did write most. I think of it as a guessing game for you to decipher which words are mine and which are found. The sentiments remain the same whether the words came from my lips and fingertips or not. Enjoy yourself on this hunt and remember, this won't be easy, but if you need a hint or two, look below to find the notes starting at number thirty-tree, going down to number one. Have fun xx

➥ This is not what the door's for slamming you up against, opening your legs with my knee. And it isn't leaving, the thing I keep doing with my shoes still on, or in the car in the driveway in broad daylight after waving goodbye to your neighbors again. But my body's a bad dog, all dumb tongue and hunger, down on all fours again, tied up outside again, coming when called but then always refusing to stay. I know what I'm trying to say, but it isn't talking, the thing that I do with my mouth to your ear, even though we got the orifices right. To leave I would have to put clothes on, and they'd have to fit better than all of this skin. To leave I would have to know where to begin: like this, pressed up against the half-open window? Like this, with my foot on the gas? If seeing is believing then why isn't touching knowing for sure? I just want my nerves to do the work for me, I don't want to have to decide. There's blood in my hands for fight and blood in my legs for flight and nowhere a sign. Believe me, I'll leave if you just let me touch you again for the last last time.

➥ When I saw you, I fell in love. You smiled because you knew.

➥ You ask why I love you. For this: You are a minute of quiet in a loud shouting world.

➥ I like to trace the lines on your back, the marks etched in your palms, in complete darkness, finding my way because, unlike most in life, they're never changing, I could find them anywhere, they're here to stay.

➥ There is love we can find. We will find.

➥ Don't cool off, I like your warmth.

➥ You're the sweetest thing, the sweetest thing.

➥ I feel you in my heart, my veins, down to my bones.

➥ You're the melody that stays with me, the one woven into my heart that now resonates with every beat.

➥ I want you. I want every inch and line, visible and hidden, all curves and no brakes.

➥ Stop doubting yourself, stop thinking you don't measure up, stop that voice inside your head that tries to pull you down into a pit of despair. You're so much more than what you believe you have inside of you, so much more than meets the eye. I wish you could see it. I wish I could make or help you. I want to help you.

➥ Sometimes, with you, it feels like an hour is eternity falling into our palms.

➥ You're so fucking hot. Here's your daily reminder.

➥ You have 7 freckles on your back, they map out the big dipper. You have a scar on your left arm you carved in high school. The first time you pulled off your t shirt I traced the line with my fingers and fell in love with your strength. You are a hero for living from that moment to this one. You never need to apologize for how you chose to survive Your body is a map I know every inch of and if anyone else were to kiss me, all they would taste is your name.

➥ I am the wolf and you are the moon. My heart beats every time I see you.

➥ Green is your eyes and every story they hold, ones that I'm still learning.

➥ I turns to you to say, "Always."

➥ I want in fact more of you. In my mind I am dressing you with light; I am wrapping you up in blankets of complete acceptance and then I give myself to you. I long for you; I who usually long without longing, as though I am unconscious and absorbed in neutrality and apathy, really, utterly long for every bit of you.

➥ Sputter your laugh into my mouth and let me hold it forevermore.

➥ I want you, all teeth, razor sharp and tight, with no pretense.

➥ I'm crazy for you, even if you are just crazy. (It's okay, I am too.)

➥ You're beautiful, don't you know?

➥ Who am I if not yours?

➥ And once the storm is over, you won't remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won't even be sure, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won't be the same person who walked in. That's what this storm's all about.

➥ This morning there's snow everywhere. We remark on it. You tell me you didn't sleep well. I say I didn't either. You had a terrible night. "Me too." We're extraordinarily calm and tender with each other as if sensing the other's rickety state of mind. As if we knew what the other was feeling. We don't, of course. We never do. No matter. It's the tenderness I care about. That's the gift this morning that moves and holds me.

➥ Tell me you weren't starving. Tell me that you have been dreaming of me more often than you could count, that you don't prefer your mother's love to mine. Tell me how you would never let me beg in order to get you to stay. Tell me how you wanted to escape from your own body. Tell me that you came freely, that six little pomegranate seeds have never tasted so good. Tell me how they felt, sliding down the silk of your esophagus, resting at home in the pit of your belly. Tell me that you will always return, like rain. Like roses. Even the earth misses you when you are gone. You are crucial to both of us. It is a fixation that I can understand. Convince me that you cannot wait to come back, that you prefer me to the sun. Tell me that you know how I fought for you. Your mother makes the days longer on purpose and I grow homesick in the absence of your body. Tell me that you chose me. That you love me. That you crave the dark.

➥ I will keep you safe with every part of me that exists, and when all else fails, I will keep your heart safe with nothing but my fingers around it.

➥ Let me kiss your eyelids.

➥ I don't know who I would be if I had never met you; a scary and wonderful thought to take between my fingers and pinch until I've had enough trying to uncover a person I was not meant to be.

➥ I want to suck you raw. I've missed your cock and I crave having all of you between the roof of my mouth and my tongue.

➥ I'm hungry for you.

➥ It will forever be a struggle and a battle, but you've got me. I hope today is wonderful and maybe not the worst of the worst. It can only get better.

➥ Happy birthday, Ezra Koenig, you ruined my life.