Bookends

I collect artefacts
That lie on tables telling tales of
The dead forgotten past

I often recall the bones
Of the history I fashioned together
Into stories of me

Yesterday I burnt the books
That were preoccupied with just
Deconstructing smiles

Distance weathers us
Like fingertips tracing the space between
Pinpoints marking miles

I'm a bookshelf bowing, no
I'm a library without a gap
Each book's a compact tree
This is my map; there's a forest in me
But if I do not move you
Just leave me behind
Like glitter in the wind
By the roadside

Contours of your hips
Cover up the treachery that lives
Hanging on your lips

Our words withering
Upon the vines of a willow mind
That I'll never find

I'm a bookshelf bowing, no
I'm a library without a gap
Each book's a compact tree
This is my map; there's a forest in me
But if I do not move you
Just leave me behind
Like glitter in the wind
By the roadside

Between waring words
The bookends close the chapter of the pain
Until we love again

Reading your lies
Truth hardly hides behind your lines
Like worn out old eyes

I'm a bookshelf bowing, no
I'm a library without a gap
Each book's a compact tree
This is my map; there's a forest in me
But if I do not move you
Just leave me behind
Like glitter in the wind
By the roadside

Calculate my gradients
Measuring the doubts that undulate
As you fluctuate

Chart a waver in your course
Fluttering decisions make you coarse
No point to reinforce