an old story and a frozen clock

And we treat years like chapters

Characters we once knew 

would be reoccuring and

Pages on pages retired to the shelf

Ink now bleeds into the page 

the curves of another’s name

Will I return for one last read?

Will I lose the book before the end?

The pages are stained with coffee and

The time that has passed 

Sea salt and water has warped the cover

Highlighted lines 

on pages filled with your name

And one lonely dogear 

For the time you went and never came

back

Maybe one day I’ll find you again

Between an old story and a frozen clock

I’ll crack open to the familiar smell 

Of old books and young decisions 

Or maybe my daughter will 

find our remains

In a moving box

Upon turning my last page