My Papa,

Your ears are long. I always think we have the same lobes, fleshy, like ripe peaches. So I must have got them from you. Your eyebrows are busy, bushy and all over the shop but I think someone trims them for you these days – they look a bit tidier. I love how God made your nose. I think it was well-sculpted. He was obviously in a good mood when he made you. I think you would kill me if I did it – but I’d love to clip those stray little hairy tufts poking out of your ears. I wouldn’t dare. It makes me smile though. And it makes me feel your vulnerability just looking at you. Your nails are a bloody mess Papa.
The full letter is here