Please, don’t skim my pages
‘cause I got metaphors
for bones,
and a hyperbolic soul.
I know I’m a hard read;
Some pages are half-written,
others are muddled in tears.
Put your hands on my spine,
bring me close,
see how I unfold for you;
how I divulge my deepest secrets and best stories
of a life I am still writing.
Dog-ear the parts of me you want to remember,
write secrets in my margins,
things never meant to be said out loud.
I won’t mind your fingerprints on my soul.
No one has ever held me long enough to leave them.
If you love me so,
then this I promise:
read me softly
like an open book or an old friend,
and on lonely nights,
we can curl up by the fire.
I’ll hold you close;
I’ll stay by your side.