“To a Book”

Poet

 

 

 

 

 

Before I pour the contents of your soul
over the rim of my famished mind, let me first
touch you. Let my fingers trace the edges
of your spine. Let me feel the dimensions
of your being. Let me wrap you with see-through

attire. Now, I am ready to drink your thoughts,
your narratives and your claims to truth. But before
that first sip, before that first bite, let me lift you up,
now bare and exposed, and let me catch a whiff
of your scent: vanilla and ink. You are mine.

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4 thoughts on ““To a Book”

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