With pages closed

By -
These words run immortal.
Red-ribboned bookmarks meet them,
rivers journeying through earth
and to the sky in hot words,
released in breath.

Bound temporarily between paper covers;
they rain italic 
along blue-gold evening fields — 
whispered over the flowers
given by those who know,
or try to say,
what love is.

Never dead;
fireflies in bookshop dust,
everything I said of us
is echoed,
overlooking the aging lake —
with pages closed,
letters still dip
and reflect the sun. 

Inspired by Our Infinite Fates by Laura Steven 

C. LJ Ireton 2025

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