Hold Me Like a Poetry Book


She said. “Hold me as tenderly as
you hold that poetry book.
Let your ink stained fingers
trace my lines, as you
say my name like you
have a poem on your lips.”

So I set aside my poetry book
and took her gently in my hands.
Then I looked into her eyes and
discovered her poetry,
reading it again and again,
unable to put her down.

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