Turning pages
Turning pages
i find it so easy to turn a page
there’s something hopeful in it
something promising
something that holds my hand
and reassures me that the narrative continues
that the story is seamless
but it has come to this
in my rashness
in my eagerness
or maybe just by devilish speed of time
I have read to the back cover
i gasp
i slam the book shut and hold it
one hand on either cover
my entire life
between my palms
i feel faint
i would rather read turmoil and misfortune
than have nothing left to read
i feel shaky
my eyes
jumping to the shelves around me
they are no longer directed along the lines
a steady trainride from word to word
i pull myself out of the nook I have been reading in
pins and needles make my legs feel transparent
and with a fuzzy gaze i scan the bookshelves around me
but the possibilities are overwhelming
and it takes all I have to settle on a single golden spine
i pull it from the masses
and bring it back to my nook
i open it in my lap and rest my shaking eyes on the first line
i have begun
and so i have read through fall and into winter
missing the old book
wanting to lay it back on my palms and reread it
but i must continue
because now that I have started the book
the one with the golden spine
I can't help but want to know how it ends
The Voice
January 2024
January Is an Icicle
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Love Me Like Fog
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Pizza Delivery!
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Soul-ly There
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Past and Future
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As She Pleases
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I Love
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