As you read your favorite book
Your fingers caress the spine
Your eyes drift from page to page and
I wonder if you can tell how much the words admire your voice;
A symphony of wants and needs
My eyes never laid on something as
peaceful as the sight before me,
And my thoughts grip at the image hoping to embed it into the back of my mind
To cherish it
To play it back whenever the world seems harsh, rough
Can't seem to get over him.