A love poem
I don't want you to be a mystery. I want you to be an open book. I want to rifle through your pages, licking my thumb to provide traction on the sticky ones. I want to write in your margins. Sometimes in pencil. Sometimes in ink. I want to highlight passages I love. Ones that made me cry, made me laugh, made me think. I want to dog ear your pages. I want to open you up and smile at your scent, with its gift of memories and time. I want to be careful not to break your spine. But I'm probably going to do it anyways, given enough time. I want to duct tape your cover when it starts to fall apart on me. I want to read you again and again, until I can recite passages of you word for word. I want to forget your ending. I want to take you to my favorite coffee shop, sit in a sunny corner with you, put you on my lap, and stare at you. I want to discover new things every time I read you. I want to fall into you when I'm sad, dive into you when I'm happ...