I want to be an open book,
let your fingers glide
along my spine.
You pull me down,
crack my binding wide,
and lay me flat.
Patient under splayed hands,
I rest in your lap.

I want to be an open book,
available for your perusal,
a heart-stopping page-turner
that brooks no refusals.
An instant classic.
A romance.

I want to be an open book
non-fiction, unabridged,
writ large in black and white
with nothing, nothing to hide,
no meaning lost between the lines.

I want to be an open book.

But I'm not.

I am a poem.

06/09/2009

Author's Note: Bah. New relationships!

Posted on 06/09/2009
Copyright © 2025 Lacy D Phillips