rewritten love notes never referencing the editor, or revisions, or the author shambling through uneasy stomachs, or red ink, or slashing his way toward just what he means, or his not knowing what he means, or the crawling cowardice of not speaking to her but building folded-paper forts held together with colored ink, or the budding calluses where when his scrawling becomes feverish his fingers squeeze the pen, or the pushing of his knuckle toward the ink so his pen draws honestly, or the crying over too-honest editions he later crumbles and tares into strips before dropping them into the trash so no one can read them, or the eventual submitting because he was done with the relationship, or the rejecting of the narrative he could charm her back with notes, or that she could be charmed back, or that she would want to come back, or that he would want her back