Velvet pages tickle my face
Resting low in my blanket cave

I was born under the full moon
And by its light I lived:
Illuminated pages turn to fresh breaths
Of escapism.
Steamy pages and blushing cheeks
Keep me warm as moonlight fades
And pages close

Ears ache from finding
what they're afraid to hear:
A creak on the stairs.
Covers crinkle and pages crease.

A faux-sleep breath emerges.
The sliver of light expands
And deflates.
The stairs creak again.

The moon and flames of shame
rise again.

Someday the secret's out.
I ache with flames double to today.

They say I am the books I hide:
Filthy fit to burn.
But the moon will share no secrets
For now.