Last page

Somewhere

in a musty corner of a book store

sit I

Beneath yellowed newsprint and papers high

 

Neither first edition nor collector’s find

A battered book

beyond it’s prime

The gilded print worn off my spine

 

Regard my tufted leather edge

from forlorn lover’s finger pledge

Cotton binding frayed by touch

 

So let me rest in dust some more

by the sombre Mahler score

my last page ripped out

years before

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