Something about this notebook
Smells like you.
I'm having trouble with that.
The words I write
Are forming letters that look like your name.
Over and over,
In cursive and in print.
Sometimes,
When I'm feeling a little in love
(And a little brave),
My name finds itself
Somewhere before the end of yours.
And before you know it,
My hopeful little heart is broken
At the thought of
What a fantasy that would be.