The Bibliophile
She works a nine-hour day
Has a couple wines on the way home
And maybe dances with her friends
Then she goes home to an empty house
No family or pets
No friends, roommates or lovers
But, she is never alone
She embraces pirates and lovers
Doctors, nurses and children
She travels the universe every night
She has met Adam, Washington, and Romeo
And she never leaves her bed
She feels the pages of her book caress her
And hold her tight as she shares their words
It is the truest form of love that she can find
And she still has three hundred pages to enjoy it
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