Bookmark

If my heart were a book
she'd dance across the pages.
Unfolding the creases saved for a later time.
Replacing them with the bookmark of her kiss. The pages of my heart.
Opening each page, carefully reading each with a glimpse of truth,
The resuscitation of closed pages
Now able to breathe.
A survivor of tarnished pages and beaten cover.
She didn't seem to mind, carefree, joyful, what possessed her smile.
Reminding me of a better me, the well being of my very soul
laid in her hands without need for a shelf