I got lost in your words, your poetic abandon.
those masterpieces of modern prose hidden beneath the layers of post-its on the bulletin board.
Every business day I wake to find more...little poems to anonymous, to me.
you may not know me, I don't know you.
but I want to.
I want to run my fingers through your chestnut hair, explore the expanses of your tanned skin. Stare deep into your liquid brown eyes.
I know these details about you because of your words, cleverly hidden beneath masterful obscure description there's you.
beneath the blanket of words is a girl like me.
Just like me, behind the pasts lived and untold futures there's us.
and we could exist together if only i knew you.
we could be together if only I wasn't afraid.
I know exactly when you post them, down to the half hour.
its repetitive, never deviating.
you have a strict class schedule.
probably brilliant beyond your years.
would I be enough? or just a pathetic intellectual groupie.
are you everything I wish you to be behind that cloak of words, or am I just a victim of an overactive imagination?
I'm more afraid of the facts than the works of fiction and amongst all these small bits of paper its hard to decipher which you are.
Anonymous, not wanting to be seen or labeled.
you protect yourself from rejection, or malice.
but also protect yourself from love.
and I'm beginning to wonder if that wasn't the idea all along.
so I'll remain a dedicated reader, a loyal fan.
but that's all I'll ever be.
words pinned on a corkboard.
a hidden masterpiece of modern prose.
and that's how we'll be.
"us".
just words.
