I am reading her
Manuscript
And every word
Is a slight sliver
of her
The depth and even
The softness of her touch
Is in that ink
I idolize
The page numbers
Hand
written
From her own
And the few notes
In the margins
Are remnants
Of her thoughts
Another layer
To complete the hidden
Grappling
Part of her.
She is with me almost
Completely
Now.
No comments:
Post a Comment