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.