Your Pretty Pages
Poetry
I would love to read you.
To turn your pretty pages,
Inheriting ink stained fingers
From gliding over your thoughts;
The way they spill over,
One page to the next,
Each turn releasing the scent
Of crushed flowers and hope.
I skate the gilded edges
Hiding your darkest secrets.
Whispers of your past,
Echoes of your future—
Your desires, laughter, and pain—
All carefully contained
Within your innocent cover.
But, you have to trust me.
Enough to open up,
To reveal your essence,
Which you keep tightly tucked
within the folds of your blessing.
Until then, I will carry you;
gently,
In the crook of my arm.
Willing the day to come
When you let go for me.
-EB