POST-ITS
Darling, wouldn't it be nice if you leave post-its,
On the door of the fridge or on my desk.
Tucked away meticulously or lying about carelessly.
Telling me all about your day and asking about mine,
You can rant it away, thought processes, you're free to whine.
Somewhere out of immediate sight, under the flower vase or table mat,
Flapping away contentedly or clinging to the brown feather hat.
And you can write away your worries, all about your brand new shoes, progress at work,
What you've been window shopping, or how your boss went completely berserk.
Tell me what's for dinner,
Chicken stew, lamb chop, or spaghetti?
Did I ever tell you that steak of yours is a true winner?
Tell me your little secrets, talk away your random drabs.
Post-its go a long way, I'm not telling you to rush,
But hey, it's been too long since you've been all hush hush.
I swear I'd read every word, archive if I could!
Tell me about your insecurities, changes of your mood.
Crack me up with a joke, lyrics or two, riddle me if you can!
There's no haste but maybe etch out a surprise date plan?
Tell me if you'd like ice creams after dinner, trinkets or flowers.
Wouldn't it be wonderful if we converse via post-its?
Open up our souls; bask in the intimacy of thoughts, in pieces and bits.
Sometimes, do leave post-its behind,
I really wouldn't mind,
To read your ranting over and over after work.
I'd chuckle, smile and wonder,
If Cupid has been kind,
If love really is seeping in this hopelessly loveless union of ours.
The writer is a student of North South University.
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