how fortunate are those who are loved.

carefully i type these small messages

on these slender slips of paper

i punctuate them with numbers

secret dates

that no one but i (and you)

will recognize

then with my quick fingers

i cut the thin circles 

from the flat rolled paste

and with an easy mostion

slide the slip in and pinch together

the circle until it stands

a swollen crescent

to be roasted until rich and golden

and slipped into its see-through sheath

and sent casually out in stacks

to meet the world

one day, under tacky dragon decorations

you will lay aside your clumsy chopsticks

and read, after cracking the vanilla crust,

"the one you love is still waiting

hurry back. be safe."

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