I Am An Open Book Whose Pages Are Stuck Together

I’ve been told I am an open book

With eyes like windows

Apparently I share it all

I am an open book

With pages stuck together

A language cursed

That I cannot speak

That they cannot read

I am an open book

With pages covered in stains

Red wine and blanks

If only I remembered

I am a book unfinished

I wish I could read it myself

The end of every page

Or how it ever did start

When the ink landed there

I am an open book

With indents on my shoulders

From fingertips bending corners

Leaving marks

Creating a fold

And marking a point of return

I am pages of unfinished folds

I have pages that cannot be read

I have words I cannot pronounce

With a lick of ones index finger

They try to unfold it all

This book will not come undone

And so they move on

They flick through

And they read the good parts

The chapters

I am an open book

With pages

That smell of Marrakech

Trying to hide the cigarettes

Like the lady down the road

Who drinks and chain smokes

All alone and she sprays herself

With just a hint

Thinking that maybe it will

Cover all of the cracks

I am an open book

Stuck together

With pages that unfold wildly

As the wind blows

Pages so soft they haven’t been felt

Words unspoken just whispers

My unstuck pages

Hide in the trees that dance

The air that lets me be

I am an open book

So place your mark in me

Tell me how you want to read me

Stop when you can’t take it anymore

I can’t explain my words

These pages are a mystery to me

As much as they are to you

And I know I cannot read you

We remain

Pages unread

Stuck together

I am an open book