Her hands still keep the page within the book
until the spine is placed upon the shelf-
and while, she reads, and thinks, and dreams, awake-
He drinks a cup of tea to rest somewhere.
She lives within her thoughts alone we know
and swims a sea of words she's born to love.

His thoughts will ebb and flow not bound for love,
unless she writes these words into a book,
for he shall not hear words of love we know,
without the girl undressed upon the shelf,
The light will bare to reveal the words somewhere
and he will try to prove he's not awake

For how can dreams expose his thoughts awake?
How does this girl claim strength of mind to love?
She must have lost her grace to stand somewhere.
Or she must be confined to feel through books.
Perhaps she still remains upon the shelf
a piece of glass could break if dropped we know.

She smiles as she picks up a cup we know.
A cup of tea she drinks while he's awake.
So fond of dreams she'd live upon the shelf,
if he might find the time to read her love.
Her spine confined and saved within the book.
He placed the book upon the shelf somewhere.

Unfair! He cries such words may lie somewhere
within a book that's too far lost we know
but when he dreams and thinks and reads the book
she knows she speaks to he that dreams awake.
She's bound but words still sail and land to love
and there is sweet release upon the shelf.

She is not glass nor born upon the shelf.
She lives alone its true and dreams somewhere
And there is he who she will fight to love
despite a failed attempt that's past we know
If he can dream and read her words awake
the words will speak beyond the misplaced page.

For now the book remains upon the shelf .
Awake they read in time alone somewhere.
We know that they won't turn the page to love.