I used to wish for a manual
to guide me through you
but I realize now that I don't ever read
the same books
twice.
Their spines stand on the shelves
defiant
staring
content with not being opened
not being bothered by my hands
or eyes.
You get what you want from a story:
company
tears
You go into it knowing the end
without knowing you know
the end.
And then you know.
I don't need a manual
Never did
Because there's only time
for one reading
and I will get what I want
what I knew I'd get
what was written on your face
and along your spine
when I opened you up
with my hands
and eyes.
YOU ARE READING
31
PoetryA collection of poems about family, growing up, hiking through national parks, and cats.
