Empty Bookcase

It was a Saturday afternoon
after a long bike ride with a friend.
I laid on the bed looking through the blinds,
the room so dusty
the sunlight streaming through looked like golden milk.
I turned away on my side,
closed my eyes
hoping I might still smell you on the pillow.
By then, your scent was too far away.
Eyes open,
I saw the bookcase facing me,
half-empty of your knowledge.
I still don’t have the strength
to fill the holes.

About Ry

It's so magical, it's gay.
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