Teenagers bring noise—

shouting next to each other.

WHY ARE YOU YELLING?!

You ask me for help,

in researching new topics,

but reject my picks.

Finger the pages,

feel the weight of someone’s thoughts.

Inherit their words.

Broken spines falling,

cracked and flaking from old age

crumble on fingers.

The breeze moves pages

the same way I move for you—

gently; with purpose.

Can you feel that breeze?

Running down your neck and back

As we read poems.

Don’t apologize–

turn around and walk away.

Leave my book behind.

You are beautiful—

the way you read in the rain.

Turning wet pages.

Can I leave this here?

This overdue book I owe?

Can you waive my fines?

Just take a deep breath

and inhale the smell of ink

breaking down slowly.