A Gentle Bookmark

Your heavy television remote was resting face down between the sofa cushions, almost hidden in the dark. It looked so neglected, just waiting for late hours. I climbed down into the deep crease of the fabric and tugged a long, smooth satin bookmark from a magazine on the floor. Dragging it up onto the armrest, I wound the pale green ribbon carefully around the remote's sleek body, tying a neat, snug knot right over the power button. Now, when your fingers blindly search the cushion tonight, you won't feel cold plastic first—only the soft satin ribbon I wrapped just for you.

3 Comments

  • Cayden The SCP foundation · 15 days ago

    operation neutralize

  • Mr.Static · 18 days ago

    " title="After the Last Light"} You came like rain to a thirsty street, soft enough to make the silence bloom. I learned the shape of your footsteps before I learned to fear the room. We built a little world from borrowed hours, hung our laughter in the evening air. And every time you reached for my hand, I forgot that time was waiting there. Now the moon keeps watch above the window, silvering the things you left behind. Your voice is only an echo in the walls, but somehow, still, it finds me. If dawn could give me one more moment, I’d spend it exactly as before— your fingers tangled into mine, and neither of us asking for more

  • Mr.Static · 18 days ago

    here is another poem I made for you Monika

Download App