As I slipped inside the sliding doors,
In silence, I roamed, the reticent floors,
Searching for that impeccable book.
With open eyes, alone, I looked.

Covers as bright as lemon zest
Glittered like gold amongst the rest.
Each blurb I perused, with bated breath,
To find those that sparkled had no depth.

I replaced them gently upon the shelves,
To glimmer and glisten amongst themselves.
I knew they would discover their place,
Within the warmth of another’s embrace.

Deep beneath each cover lies
A soul to be read: to accept, to defy?
With battered heart and broken mind,
I longed for the book I could not find.

Eyes downcast, upon the floor,
I chanced upon an open door.
For there you were, on darker ground,
Waiting patiently to be found.

Your cover worn, and pages frayed;
Intrigued to see how you were made.
My mind was open, I had no doubts,
And with my card, I took you out.

Others scoffed, at my aberrant choice.
To them, my disgust, I had to voice;
They only saw your beaten cover,
But I read deep; now I’m your lover.