My eyes gaze. Letter after letter.
Page after page.
Chapter after chapter.
I’m carefully flipping through pages.
I just can’t finish this book.

Because I don’t feel curious enough.

I keep finding myself re-reading the same chapter. Starting over. Just one more time.

It’s like one of those dreams that occurs once in a while. The ones you wish to never end.

Unfinished chapter. Yet thoroughly read.

You are just as tempting as the sea on a sunny day.

It was an uneven cut.
The type of cut you just know is going to heal badly.
You don’t care about how it will look.
You’re just happy it heals, at last.

It healed.
It didn’t look good.
Just happy
    - It healed.

I didn’t realise it could re-open.

Same place.
Different shape.

I imagine twirling honey. Carefully drizzling it.
Over my favourite dish.

I’m having cravings.
I’m insatiable.
A sweet tooth.

I want a mouthful.

Exertion has created a map at the back of her hands.
Just like abrasion, when water gently shapes rocks.
She has untied knot after knot.

Her hands carrying eternities of wisdom.

Sometimes
You’re the heavy rain
that ends the thirst and drought.
Sometimes you’re the ocean
between the waves.
Sometimes
You’re the sunrise
That breaks the night.

Sometimes

You’re the train that never arrives.