Broken Spines


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]

5 comments:

  1. OBSESSED with this. And that picture... oh, that picture!!!

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  2. this should be submitted to the poetry foundation. or a publication. or somewhere. <3

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  3. Laura : something about the way poetry is small and succinct. It's comforting to write when your life feels anything but!

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  4. This poem is beautiful. I think I read it at least 5 times.

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Thank you so much for commenting, Darling Reader! I read + love each and every one of them. (Anonymous commenting has been turned off due to robots)

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