Like the pages of a book,
I slipped through her fingers.
So intrigued by my sheets,
Each chapter leaves her breathless—wanting more.

A labyrinth of words,
Mere lines and curves—but full of meaning.
So absorbed reality has vanished,
She loses herself inside of me.

Like shadows cast from an open flame,
On her, my silhouette I leave.
Like sand to an incoming tide,
Be swept away in me.

My characters,
The excitement,
The new universe I bleed,
My Ink stained canvas—
Her escape to a new dimension is held within me.

We journey across worlds—in the same room,
I take her up mountains,
We swim across oceans,
Soar from country to country—
Her imagination free to run wild,
My hardcover constraints do little to confine me.

Spread me open,
Dive head first into my pages and reside there with me.
Lust for my contents—
Weep for the lives expired within me.

Become lost in the passion,
Written tears become real tears—emotions:
Memories,
Pain,
Anger,
Sadness,
Happiness,
With each new read she feels alive with me.

My plot— so sweet,
Once she tastes me— she realizes she was always starving.
The bookmark—her utensil,
She stops and goes as she pleases,
Feeding on the juices of a hunger that she can’t appease.

I am her favorite book.
Within me she tunes out everything,
I take her to new heights.
A free mind— captured by my mystery,
My pages are never-ending.

We will live,
We will age,
Only the smell and feel of me will change.
Yet she will always wonder what my next page holds.

I have left my mark.
Whether I lie on the side table,
Or rest upright on a shelf,
I, her favorite book— am always within reach.