Read Me

I am open to you
Like that brown, leather-bound hardback
That waits on your "to read" shelf.

My job is to get you to read me
Open me
Lavish in my thick words
And tumble through emotions.

It has been so long
Since you picked me up
And I miss the enjoyment I get
From having your warm hands
Brush my pages with rapture.

I try to entice you with my gilded edges
My scrawling, beautiful print
My flow of words like music
But my charm has faded
And like everyone else
You have forgotten me.

So I lie in wait for you
And you alone
To receive my presence again
To cherish my rich, well worn scent
To caress my edges that are slightly torn
And to feel your breathe upon me when you fall asleep on top of me
For right now I stand alone on your shelf.