Book-bound

Spending hours filling silence
with the voices from books;
suddenly back in high school
suddenly back in lonely
and content, on some level,
that the emptiness of a moment
is fed with sweet words
that build casts around fractured spaces
and keep sanity from running off the margin -
the stories read are mine
the characters read are friends
and the read world the mind
leaving here, not because here has nothing left
but rather because there has so much to give.

Dusting off the reading heart,
letting stories pump their way
through eyes, lungs and toe tips
suddenly book-bound;
and like riding a bike
you never forget how.