All my love letters to you are on sticky notes,
That I slipped into the pockets of your coats,
Taped to your computer screen and hidden in books you haven't opened.
They've slipped through the gaps between the cushions and they've littered the floor.
The mountains of them piled up behind the door
Have made it impossible for me to joke and -
And I wish that I could fit so much more than this on the damned things
But the sticky notes have always been that something
That I associated with my love for you.
My love for you could span a million of the useless yellowed paperAnd even then my writing could never taper,
Because it's about you I will always write and I know your love for me is endless too.
About the Creator
Jaimie
Amateur writer
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Gossamer
"Murray! Wake up!" He loved that period between waking and dreaming. To him, it was like entering another dimension; more of a dreamscape than dreaming itself. There was an otherness to it that he wanted to grasp and yet deeply respected the fact that it could never be his totally. This is what gossamer was; flighty and light, a wisp of smokiness, an idea suggested but not fully revealed, a slit in cloth, a copse in the wood.
By Rachel Deeming6 days ago in Fiction
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