it was a package of “post it” notes that turned out the key
superstition the suspected while the timing was
almost missed in the midst of a busy day
" what about the maytrix thing woman "
it wasn’t really I minded being called a “thing”
it was that I minded when being treated that way, he liked best
" how’s that door …? "
I know I don’t look the part but deep down inside
I really AM a very good secretary when I want to be
and considering Who’s playing the ‘boss’ part I might not mind
after all my version of Mr. Write might just be a Mr. E in the end
I’ve never “seen” the man but I did serve him up a hot cup of coffee once
he’s a ‘runner’ and the cup was just a point to show off his hands
… can you handle it, sir … was all I could ask
" I’m a welder " he said
I couldn’t even look into his eyes he was so cool in his sweat
slate blue the color of his very skin or his shirt it mattered not I remember
and unfortunate as it was while I’d rather not retain the membership
my eyes betrayed me and stole a glance of his unforgettable lips
" I can hang onto hot things "
my ears enslaved me recording every word he said
short the exchange but breathlessly lost I just left
vertigo, I was sure was about to center my head
" can I pay you…"
no voice to reply so I just waved and walked by
sure, I could feel him ‘turn around’ oddly
wondering if I’d lost my nerve properly
a long trip it must have been, true
running’s not so fun in worn out shoes
but how was I to know he’d come all this way
to order hot coffee on a mid summers day
just to say…
" well dear…. it must be ‘you’ "