Love letter

Oh, Neena Mappingsgert, where have you gone?
Do you remember how we would fritter away the afternoons poking fun at the Lokle boys in their tea-skirts?
Do you still feel sad when you hear about the rising death toll of the dugong?
Do you have any regrets about touching that dead cantalope with your bare hands?
How many ants stung you right then and there? Twenty?
Why did you start calling yourself Nethra? And how did you cut out shoulderblades so badly anyhow?
Who is Darling Froank anyways?
Where did you go? It's been thirty years, hasn't it?
Did you forget my name? And number?
Its Anthony. And its 35. 9.
That's all.