Body of fiction

The sunlight on your body is like the

Circular glow of the bedside lamp on

Page 81. The silk duvet is your dust

Jacket. The only one that I’ve ever

Kept on. Your vertebrae constitute

The image that’s on the book’s spine.

And your smile lines are the creased

Pages that I love the most. But, my

Friends still laugh at me when I say

I’d rather stay at home with a book.

One comment

  1. This poem is the place to be .

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