A Novel Obsession

tap of nails, slide wood, pull drapes stains loiter in round mug shapes water sipped, books stack, words leap hush wizened pages, neighbors sleep journals, confessionals, down or up old cartridge spills, pens horde in cup shackled hands, lungs breathe, heart drums an empty tissue box, lamp hums Try, stay busy, must forget One more read, she might regret mordacious night, she wakes from sleep her bursting thoughts alone must keep pack nightstand, smooth trifle snags slip his book in its carry-on bag His words elicit songs in ear from his masterpiece, held dear open drawer, last book in pile bottom of the heap, exiled giving in, she dares to rest his hard cover on her chest remove jacket, ne’er oppress dust off passion and caress thumb his chapters, breathe him in recite his name and notes again too much cologne, too much sweat open pages, fan her breast She knows he does not write for her emotions shatter, dreams endure she scribbles margins in duress between his lines, her discontent the nightstand drawer hides her distress she’s indexed under “o”, obsessed Written 4/4/17 for Eight Word Challenge Contest