a little hole in the heart left
after many afternoons shared
like when an old friend moves away
or when a summer romance ends
i finished Let It Come Down
a couple of days ago
i've been flirting with other new books
fresh projects, of alligators and mysteries
and challenges of over 1,000 pages
but now & then, i wish i hadn't finished
my old book, it was comforting to know
i would read a little of it every day
i knew the characters
but i never knew how the plot
would end...
it's a great book but also it's not the best book
i've read, i just know i miss it
and then i realized
that almost every time i finish a book
i feel the same little sweet pain
the little déjà vu
a subtle melancholy's there
yes, like another short love story
that has come to an end
another kind of silence
Paul Bowles would've said
now to start another romance
to engage page by page
