He slips a grin,
She watches him,
He is stood in front of the fridge,
She rolls her eyes,
He stands and giggles to him self,
She walks over to see what he’s spelling,
He covers the space with his arm,
“no not yet”
Letters, alphabet letters,
Stuck on the fridge,
Spelling out, kiss?
Spelling out, I love you,
Spelling out, do me,
Spelling out, his name.
Alphabet letters, I hate you,
Alphabet letters she gathers them all she put them in the tub shoves them into the kitchen cupboard,
One day she may return and spell out his name,
But for now, it’s a dead memory.
The kitchen flooded,
And she was ready to redocorate the fridge,
With colourful bulky letter magnets,
Forgetting his name, feelings and attachment,
The letters got soddened, and the magnets went rusty, brown water they murk,
Like the memory.