I wondered whose intention it was
\nto put this book of blank pages
\nin this drawer, and never leave
\na sentence in it.
\nWas it intended to be a ledger,
\na journal, a diary?
\nMy imaginal soul,
\nfrustrated,
\nbegan to read the blank pages.
\nThe book was like a life never used.
\nNever looking in a mirror.
\nWhite pages that had yellowed,
\nbecome fragile,
\neyelids that never opened.<\/p>\n
Seeing the story
\nI remembered dreams,
\nbills, children.
\nTaken back, I began to read
\nthe book that was never written.
\nThe dog, buried by a boy
\nin the garden.
\nA doll lost under the rafters
\nof an attic.
\nA girl shouting for days
\nto the doll.
\nA woman contemplating divorce.
\nA man working in an empty job
\nand talking to himself.
\nPoems gasping for a first word,
\nthen disappearing.<\/p>\n
I encountered a family of
\nhuge emotions.
\nVacations and lost coins
\nin a wishing well.
\nI imagined a household
\nlooking at the light
\nat the bottom of its doors.
\nA ship drifting from its mooring.
\nA child that forgot to wake up.
\nA dream come true.
\nAnd I laughed, brooded, cried
\nand shuddered.
\nMy story and their story together.
\nAnd tired,
\nI closed the book of blank pages
\nwith my fingerprints and tears.
\nA story that told itself to me
\nwithout its writing,
\nor an author.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I wondered whose intention it was to put this book of blank pages in this drawer, and never leave a sentence in it. Was it…<\/p>\n