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11 April 2009, 08:50 AM
Joined: 11 Mar 2009
"Reading After Her"
The little red book parts in my hands
Did she hold it this way too?
Its rumpled pages tanned with time
Worn and wearied from her many passings
Bits of it are falling apart and
Changing in a way that's oddly familiar
Like the story unfolding in these pages
Where does fiction start and truth begin
Who is me and who is he and who is she?
And is all of this mere indelible destiny
Like this book already written
Or can we leap from the page
To become our own authors
Writing what ought to be
These musings her gift calls to mind
And while most men would go no further
I pour into the endeavour
Because I am reading after her
And sharing this intimate journey
Brings the both of us that much closer.
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