My love,
My hand quivers as I write this
Because our teacher is attentive
And wishes no distraction.
But how can I not be distracted
When you squint at the board
And I want to read aloud what
You cannot see?
When you soft hair strays
To your face
And all I want to do
Is tuck the strands behind your ear?
When I am waiting
For the bell to toll
So that I could walk behind you
To the canteen
And as I ruminate on how
To end this letter,
I am equally anxious
Of what you will say.
How trivial that my fate
Rests on this airplane-shaped note
And as it soars to you
My heart soars with it.
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