caadam
You said you'd be here soon. Right in this text. I waited and stayed—here at my window, I did. You never came. I thought, perhaps you hit traffic. Then I remembered it was 2 AM in the morning.
Library, library,
where for art thou?
Just up a few streets!
2.50 to get to you
is 2.50 too much.
Shit. But I love you still.
Think of me, xoxo.
A library is full of little big bangs
Or, if you prefer,
creations of little gods.
Authors.
We know the beginning,
but look anxiously for the end,
searching, contemplating,
curiously, childishly.