I earmark his body with my tongue

so I can come back and indulge

in all the different parts of him

that always tell me the same story

Oh, I could read him all day if he’d let me

smell the scent left on his pages by

the ink of my love

and swallow his words as if I needed them

to breathe again.


Airport Bar

We’re pushed together, packed like sardines at the bar

He sees me reading and strikes up a conversation,

Friendly fella sort of guy.

I place my book down to indulge him-

we’re both, after all, just trying to survive

the next flight,

the next trip home.

“You could fit hundreds of books in a kindle,” he tells me, as I begin stuffing my book in my bag

And immediately

I regret not telling him to fuck off.