Falling in Love
At first the job is tedious and awkward,
holding the pencil correctly,
the tips of my fingers tense against the wood,
copying letters and words,
scratching down shapes and lines that stay separate
or connected,
trying desperately to allow for proper space
between each word.
Is that enough, Mom? Is it too much?
I know how to make my letters now.
When can I make beauty and let those letters and words,
so distant,
blend into one whole body?
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