I tried to write to get you back but ended with goodbye
And now the shadows have been removed
Though I wished them away for months at a time
I feel adversely now that the book has closed
I yearn for air filled with dust from our pages, the ones we left unturned
I remember bent and much-abused binding
I remember how you once were
I've put you away on a shelf for good
No more reading to try and make sense
I haven't opened another but I've put us down
And I'll soon forget the words you recited
Those wanton volumes - unfinished - now burned
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