LIKE A BOOK...

It is difficult sometimes

to try to read you.

I don't always understand what you're getting at

your clever allusions

your subtle plays on words.

Occasionally, your meanings get lost

like when you refer to French

or any other tongue I'm less familiar with

and I wish I were less dense

or more blind

so that I could run my fingers

across your spine

to feel what you're getting at.

There are difficult times for us

when I can't get what you're trying to explain

and I wish for an instant I could end this chapter

and explore elsewhere.

But I can't.

I can't leave this ongoing story

because I don't know where it goes

and anyway

there is no one else

who's covers I wish to enter

as much as yours.

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