She wants to talk but can only write him little notes,
There is one question the answer she wants to know.
All her other questions float around her head,
Wanting to be heard wanting to be said.

She wants to shout and scream at him,
She wants to say rude things, but that would be dim.
Instead more notes in his tray,
Secret messages they do say.

The notes have no author, no name at the bottom,
His search to find her has been forgotten,
He reads the notes – of course he does,
He doesn’t realise these notes are about love.