Sansevieria Cylindrica, your so damn hot. I first saw you at a party down in Pilsen, you clearly stood out. There were so many out of place hipsters down there, the resentment of the people who have lived down there for years was evident, but you even charmed them. I still don't know how you got all those free tamales from that little store for free. I'm thinking your that charming. I know I would have given you anything you asked for, even though you don't need much. My friend Leo told me that you get by with the smallest amount of care, very little water, and very little light. Though at the party you told me you can grow faster in brighter light. Who doesn't want to grow faster? I love the fact that you can get up to 7' tall, I like a tall plant. But I realize that your height, much like our potential love, is a slow growth kind of thing. I would do anything to get into your life. I know you hang out at Sprout Home, I have seen you there a couple times since meeting you at the party, you don't seem to remember me though, at least you don't speak when I say hello. Who knows maybe you can't talk, being a plant and all. I hear that you have the potential to be shaped, even braided, that is crazy to me, I like the way you simply reach for the sky, it's so motivational to me. Leo also told me you have a drinking problem, and that is why you only drink like twice a month or so. Maybe you should just drink nice clean water, rye and plants seems a bit much. I hope you get this letter, i'm just going to send it to Sprout, since I see you through the window there so much, don't panic, I have to pass Sprout Home to get to the 66 bus, to get to my job.... i'm not a stalker. At least I hope you don't think so after reading this letter. I really think you would like it at my house, I have an end table that is just dying to meet you. And don't worry, I think your nick name African Spear is pretty cool. I mean you are from there. I think it's cool how you got your name, a competition in a Dutch newspaper in 1837. Weirdly cool.
