as the pages turn and our story grows your once obvious feelings become reluctant to show your intentions remain hidden, burried under the shelf the edges are bent, the pages are weathered not even a clue in the world you have yourself! eventually, our pages together will no longer be marked my bookmark will fall out and be torn apart so please, not a sentence we have to wait no fragment, paragraph, nor phrase be left out add in your details, restate your plot maybe our tale can end as good as we once thought