The cursive writing was playing mind games with the paper,
Almost haughtily showing off its beauty and sophistication.
“Look at what we can do,” the o and the v stated together,
Holding hands firmly and never letting go.
And the l, with the its trials and tribulations illustrated through its ups and downs,
Was far enough away from the i but close enough to the o
That the paper was thoroughly jealous.
And the e wished it was closer to the y-o-u, because that was the prettiest word of them all.
But when the paper was folded and put in the box, it mocked the letters:
They were lost.
Lost, of course, until she opened the box, and the cursive screamed out with its blotted blue ink the three words that his heart could barely express and that his mouth could barely say and that his pen had trouble writing.
But the cursive letters said it all, with their thoughtful elegance and sophistication.