She reads

There are words

hanging like music on a stave

singing their song

of gradual revelation.

And

behind the scanning eyes

adventures episode

with the turning of pages.

I watch your eyes -

telling their own stories

unaware of the pages I turn

and the song that I hear

in the silence of your engagement.

I weave my thoughts

through your hair

plait them into being

in the promises of imagination.

I run my thoughts down your cheeks,

caress your neck

with my whimsy

and gather you close.

And all the while

you turn the pages

questing the conjurations

of another’s words

loosing mine

to their meandering melody.