Book of Love

There was a book once written,
it was called The Book of Love.
She wrote the words in tenderness
every night,
by candle light
she poured out her love for him...
onto the pages of creation
words sprawled everywhere,
waiting for worlds to begin.
If he ever read them
and if they ever touched his soul,
This lovely young poet girl
will surely never know.
He forgot his book so quickly
when he packed his things to leave,
He forgot her gift of love on the floor
He crushed her heart on her sleeve.
Now the book sits waiting,
to be read again someday.
But this girl won't be reading
or restating any of her feelings,
she won't be writing him ever again,
her broken heart
has already stopped bleeding.
But when she writes another book,
of love or joy or peace
She will keep it close beside her
unwilling to release,
the inner workings of her mind,
her heart, body, and soul.