Books are my best friend,
But why have they turned aloof.
How much I love you, can’t they give you any proof.
I have read so many pages,
But have understood none of them.
Just read your name in every sentence, and in every word.
The smooth pages and the glossy covers,
Dear, they mirror your face.
Often you come out of them, dancing with that suave grace.
The sweet scent in the new books,
Hint the fresh aroma of your hairs as they sway and unfold
I breathe it, I feel it, and it melts in my soul.
The soft murmur as I flip through the leaf,
Is it the swift echo of your voice?
Or is it you talking to me, across time and space.