Loving A Librarian

I don’t love you,
anymore,
you’ll be pleased to know,
but I love to pour over the books,
you stole for me,
page by page,
I am suddenly in Spoons,
chocolate cake and cider,
before class,
texting affection,
our friends got sick of hearing out loud.

old-books

Am I allowed,
to love you a little?
I’ll never see you again,
those pages are drowned,
dripping in who we were,
and how we loved,
as I love you,
just a little.
I can barely read.
I don’t think I want to,
but I hold the ink close,
begging it not to run,
where I can’t follow.
I dry my eyes,
and then,
it’s gone,
again.
I don’t love you,
anymore,
until next time.


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