The Neatest Hand

Notes about shopping, postcards from islands
Letters the length of a small novelette
Three words in a diary, as if I’d forget
God damn, I love your handwriting so much I hope you know
That I pour over every word you send me when I go
Mix tapes with careful print titles and tunes
Private jokes, footnotes, and turtle cartoons
Concise, clear directions to hostels in Rome
Call me at work on a bill near the phone
God damn, I love your handwriting so much it makes me cry
I’m sorry for the times you’ve had to wait for a reply
Message on the fridge, «Could you please take my soaps?»
My old addresses on air-mailed envelopes
Directions in red in the margins of plays
Thoughts in front pages of books on my birthdays
The coldest seven letters ever looked as good as this
Your name signed in cursive with an x for a kiss