Library Binding (Day 17)

He can lay on a bed of nails
or walk on hot coals
easier than commit to her
knowing that punctured skin heals
and the smell of searing skin fades
but he will have to wake up
next to her every morning

Decades have passed since
she kissed him in the kitchen
of a funky downtown seafood place.
He keeps her in his life
the way one might hold on to
a book first loved in adolescence,
favorite pages well-worn,
but the story so familiar
that whole chapters
haven’t been explored in years.

He likes his life
and her place in it,
up on a shelf
for when he needs her.



About semiblind

Bringing you stark existentialism since 1981.
This entry was posted in fear, history, NaPoWriMo, people, poetry and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s