Poem #8: Between the lines

In my grip are sheets of paper
But they really are your hands
I could wrap myself with them
In the words I see your eyes
Reading my dreams back to me
The ink dissolving into an image of us
Every page is your face
Every book your being
I'm holding them and taking the words in
Words, my only companion
While I wait for you, in agony.

(18 July 2014)