Red Dripping Down by Lola Simon

I bought a book of love poems today

I’ve never been one for love,

But I couldn’t help but think of you

I can still picture the curve of your nose,

And the way light reflected off your fingertips

With you everything was red

Mornings melted into nights in single heartbeats

And we lay suspended there, unmoving, unblinking,

our eyes opened wide as to not

miss a moment of living

I don’t miss you

I don’t think of you much at all

But as I flipped through the book,

I thought I saw you resting there

Folded in the pages near the spine