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your weeks in the best-seller list

sure enough there you were
your outfit was one of those covers
          colored in guilty pleasures
the cap was the perfect blurb
          and your hair
so subtle a title, suggestive, so that
          pages whispered your smell

i was swept up with everybody else
          grabbed you, held you, took you
everywhere, nowhere without you
          ran my fingers through your lines
committed all to memory, fought sleep
          to finish your story and go over
my favorite passages, highlighting
          choosing your words

then i realized i had only seen
          your manuscript, dog eared
marked with the pencils of years
          bursting with the promise
and there you were, open to my last page
          but the ending was missing
your legs wrote past me as you left

i only read what i could in the time
i was able to see you browsing
i tried to find a copy in the basement
i was a fool to think of you as a bargain

it never really occurred to me i was the only
one could see you for the story you really were


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