I want to be your favorite book-  
have you thumb through my pages    
make me dog-eared and worn  
fold down my corners at the parts
where you smiled or thrummed love  
and feel your fingers along my spine  

couch curled in the yellow glow of
forty-watt warmth and a heavy blanket  
open me-  
the familiar feel of your eyes  
running over my lines  
until you know me by heart  
  
an old friend that never changes  
a lover that never leaves  
your escape  
your comfort  
for as long as my pages have ink