Our love meant I carved a space
on the bookshelves
and against my body in bed.
I made empty the places that once were full.
And then filled them again
with you.
They became our broken spines
until I searched for Salinger
in October.
(I'd forgotten he wasn't mine)
[on film with my pentax k1000. Book pictured is Jonathan Safran Foer's 'found' work Tree of Codes]
OBSESSED with this. And that picture... oh, that picture!!!
ReplyDeletethis should be submitted to the poetry foundation. or a publication. or somewhere. <3
ReplyDeleteLaura : something about the way poetry is small and succinct. It's comforting to write when your life feels anything but!
ReplyDeleteThis poem is beautiful. I think I read it at least 5 times.
ReplyDelete