Crumpled creased pages
Littered on the floor
At the bottom,
They have settled

Can you see them?
You put them there.
Your calloced fingers
Sliced them apart.

Don’t touch the mess
Leave them be
You put the pages
where they belong

Down on the ground,
Rubbed in the dirt
On top of the dust
Under a shoe

Please don’t worry
No one will come
Smooth them out
And pick them up

There is a new story,
Bound and ready
Sitting on the table
Calling out to you

Open the book,
Crack the spine,
Read the lines
You left behind

Except this book
Is not for you
to fling about
And throw away

The oils on your fingers
Will not leave marks
Because these pages
Were saved for me