You hold me

like a book:


turning pages

searching image


hoping for a glance

I can’t reveal.


The clock ticks on

it’s midnight now


we talk on superhighway

peeling skin for bone,


my pages thin

& fragile


crushed to dust

by other loves.


You’re searching

for a meaning


the hollow of your

heart bleeds desire


& I fly out of print



by the satire

sold as love.


You hold me

like a book


I lean to catalogue

the moment.


Chapter heading

full stop.


End of line

hidden in your



black eyes.

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