A Novel Obsession
tap of nails, slide wood, pull drapes
stains loiter in round mug shapes
water sipped, books stack, words leap
hush wizened pages, neighbors sleep
journals, confessionals, down or up
old cartridge spills, pens horde in cup
shackled hands, lungs breathe, heart drums
an empty tissue box, lamp hums
Try, stay busy, must forget
One more read, she might regret
mordacious night, she wakes from sleep
her bursting thoughts alone must keep
pack nightstand, smooth trifle snags
slip his book in its carry-on bag
His words elicit songs in ear
from his masterpiece, held dear
open drawer, last book in pile
bottom of the heap, exiled
giving in, she dares to rest
his hard cover on her chest
remove jacket, ne’er oppress
dust off passion and caress
thumb his chapters, breathe him in
recite his name and notes again
too much cologne, too much sweat
open pages, fan her breast
She knows he does not write for her
emotions shatter, dreams endure
she scribbles margins in duress
between his lines, her discontent
the nightstand drawer hides her distress
she’s indexed under “o”, obsessed
Written 4/4/17 for Eight Word Challenge Contest
Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2017
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