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John fled the city eyes
and took refuge in libraries
(books smelling the same
no matter where you are).
Sequestered in dim-lit corners,
he pressed his face against spines
and dug fingernails into old leather.
Jane, he whispered,
they still smell like you.
| So John's long dead girlfriend Jane was either an avid book reader or a librarian. After he lost her, his whole world fell apart and he became a transient, a roamer. No matter where he went, though, he could not escape the memory of Jane.|
These three poems you have written are quite interesting. You should write some more. I like them very much. Then again, I always like your poetry.
Jane, Jane, Jane.
|| Posted on 2007-09-18 00:00:00 | by manwithnoname | [ Reply to This ] || Ah! i have read all three now and i must say well done! this (these) are an instant fave now that i have it all together. This is an interesting story. It catches my attention and i want to know what happens next! when you post new installments of this series ecpect comments from me. |
|| Posted on 2007-09-17 00:00:00 | by misty_of_moon | [ Reply to This ] |