Look**
at me like the way
your eyes fixate on that paper.

Hold
me like the way
you run your fingers up the spine of a book.

Dig
into me like the way
your pen carves the surface of the page.

Etch
yourself into me like a story does into a soul.

And I will do the same.
I just fear,
that one day,
I will be nothing more,
than just another book,
on your shelf,
collecting dust,
as its companion.