After this girl picked me up,
I wouldn’t be set back down
until she was finished with me—
like the mystery novel
that finally came to rest beside
her body on top the nightstand.
She took her sweet time with me;
Licking her finger wet before
turning every page of my book;
I just wish she kept me around
on her own shelf a little longer.
She recommended me to a friend—
rather soon; and loaned me out.
But that girl hasn’t touched me once
since she set me down on the couch
with her stack of women magazines
and coupons to be clipped.
By the looks of her literary background,
this girl needs much more than
just a good paperback mystery novel;
Something more hard-bound, perhaps?
I was just thankful I hadn’t yet
become her bathroom reading.
I— hate— being dragged in there.
Despite the baskets of laundry
stacking up and the dirty dishes;
There was still hope for us yet.
I came prepared with a dust jacket—
so I will be ready for her whenever
she feels ready to pick me back up.