You held the book as we sat
cross-legged on the table
in the nicest clothes we had.
Reading it at the same time–
I waited for you to turn the pages,
while our laundry tried so hard to dry.
You never held back your opinion,
and we have that in common.
Our honesty cloaks us to most
but betrays us, too–how charming.
So I’ll wait for you to turn the pages,
smooth my dress over my knees,
and keep reading, until words run out.