why does time linger long
and lovers forget
if only
to be a flower
pressed between the delicate pages
of books, you love to read
if only
slowly you’d happen upon me
and remember that joyful day you
found me swooning in the summer breeze
between the thorny patches and rocky clay
if only to be forgotten no more
to be a thousand flowers
preserved between the fragile pages of your heart
who, when found,
proves patiently
that our summer love has not been lost to us
From the book THE TRUTH ABOUT LOVE
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Marquida Roberts 