Reader
I feel your words upon me
As they race across the page.
A running sense of wonder
Even late upon this age.
The whisper flips of paper
As the pages burn and turn,
Setting me afire...
It seems I never learn.
The secrets whispered to me
As I pause and try to hear,
Are echo cries of memories
That are laden wet with tears.
The hardened cover closes
Shutting down the riot sight.
As I nod and ponder deeply
Slipping off into the night.
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