Remind Me with a Post-it

Trails of Post-its are pulled from my pockets that scratch out the symbols of yesterday’s eternity.

Written in whispers from nights you promised to cup my overflow of water with both of your hands.

I can still hear the scratching from the first time you wrote one, reminding me of our year. Now, that sound has faded into the crinkling of a Post-it note in my pocket.

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