you moisten your thumb
and finger
to turn a stubbornly
dry page of a book
one you've read before.
the cover is wrinkled
from tub wash
and wet hands.
you fall in love
with books and feel
sad when the end
draws near, slowing
down the pace,
eeking out the story
before it slips
away again.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment