Book lovers

head down, head of brown

buried in a book

buried in her nook

her head is swimming with thoughts, her head is brimming with plots

heart remains empty, and it sounds tempting

to never say a word

a boy of sixteen

a boy full of dreams

a lover of stories

bothered by worries

he walks through the door, he walks through the store

his arms are full, but his heart is dull

only one half of a whole

her eyes meet his

her eyes and his

a moment too long

for the tune of a song

they hold each other’s gaze

his lips quirk up

her mind clams up

a new beginning

for the broken and the wilting