In my heart it’s known
You’re a book I’m in,
That I can never own.
Occasionally, I get to read
a few pages, minor parts I play.
Catch a glimpse of stories combined.
A chapter here, a chapter there
Then Place a bookmark and walk away.
It’s not my choice,
I would love to devour you’re stories,
learn you word for word.
Re-read the curves of your body
over & over
until I know every line by heart.
I don’t get much time to read
the borrowed pages
you are able to send my way.
I yearn for the feeling
of the whole book
in my hands,
of being able to flip its pages
whenever I wish.
To run my fingers
down the spine –
feel the strength
that binds
the whole book together.
That doesn’t seem to be my in my fate.
I can only take
the pieces I am given
and memorize them.
Take them for what they are,
excerpts of a story
that has captured my heart,
soul and imagination –
but I can never own
or even fully read.
I am left wanting…
wanting to know more-
Wanting to read
chapters I’ve missed
and wanting to know
how it all plays out.
Still you’re one of my favorites
A book I can’t get off my mind
and long to finish
So I can start it all over again.


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