Same Book

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The book is on both of our shelves.
Two bookcases of different proportions.
On my bookshelf it sits at the front,
But on yours it's in the middle.

I've looked at that book for months,
Waiting to open the crisp pages.
Never knowing it sat on your shelf as well,
Not knowing what you anticipated.

I go to reach for the book,
But hesitantly draw back.
Scared the read those lines,
And turn the page one at a time.

I mention the book,
You bring forth a discussion.
And there we start.
The same page as one another.

You read the words,
With such compassion.
I follow along,
Taking it all in.

After that page,
I skip ahead to the next.
Suddenly all is lost,
In this translation.

You close this book,
Put it back on your shelf.
And there I stand,
Still wanting to read more.

As I place my book,
On my own shelf,
I see you hesitate,
Reaching for that book again.





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