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Jan
Pieloor
The Book
- If I would ring you, I'd hear the ice of
you, I'd hear your politeness; it would dribble and crust. I'd feel the chill of you. We
opened the book of our old love; I danced on the lines of lust but you saw two lovers nd
no script. You closed the book, snap. You were too quick. You might have found a new
Spring. You might have rescued me from the ice pool I slipped in. If I would ring you, I'd
hear you hesitate with your polite summer words, not giving yourself, afraid I would want
you again. But I'm lost in the covers, in a word maze. When you snapped the book shut, you
caught my new dress in it, my dress with the flowers and long sleeves. You have me, you
make love to me, in the printed words on the pages. A man and woman can't be lovers and
friends, you said, as you walked away with me in your arms, between the covers, in the
book with the crimson covers.
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