A time-worn book by the fireplace
My favorite use of an evening
The minutes creep by like busy traffic
As I traverse the innocuous pages

That was your favorite line
When the hero cracks that joke
To cut the tension of a night
Well past its quota of death

I savor it, like a well-worn tune
It cuts through my heart
Reminds me of you and
I smile at the memory

I toss the book into the flames
And recline to better dream of you

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