I've been caught up
Devouring book after book.
Words have become my drug,
Fables, fairytales, and fiction my high.
Lyrical portraits painted in black on white.
Flawed heroes and heroines,
Wise master elders,
And the love-to-hate villain,
Have become more familiar to me
Than a close friend or relative.
And when I turn the last page,
My heart breaks a little
With the thought that their story is done.
But in the next breath
I cheer up again
As I plan my next affair
Full of stolen glances,
Secret rendezvous,
Discreet touches,
And late night trysts
With a well-written work of literature.