Library Aisles

Another one I wrote a while ago but was never really satisfied with

I am sitting in a library aisle with my best friend. 

On one side of us looms science fiction,

the other is filled with audio books.

We laugh and at one point our eyes tear up.

We both almost didn't come here today.

But I, for one, am so glad we did.

Because we lost ourselves somewhere 

between those books

with covers we never opened once

as we sat there,

because the stories pouring out of my mouths

were better than any hidden between those pages.

A Do Not Disturb sign hung

at the end of the aisle,

and no employee or other fine literary scholar

dared pass through our sacred spot,

as we spilled out all our deepest fears.  

And she says,

"I'm worried about her."

And I say,

"You can't put it all on you,

you saw what that did to me."

And she says,

"I don't know what to do."

And I say,

"Sometimes you have to put yourself first."

And somewhere in that advice,

that I will never follow,

we find ourselves again.

We met when I was twelve,

and she was twelve,

but we came together 

in library aisles

and walks through the woods. 

And I think they will write stories about our love

someday.

They will write of thai food

and slam poetry

and library aisles.