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naked work of literature

She reads me like a book, plucking me from Her favorite shelf in the library of Her mind, holding onto the familiar soft leather of my spine

She is careful not to rip my pages by slowly skimming the lines. rips are here and there, (but) She treats these with much care— for there is a story in these pages.

there is a bedtime story filled with light, a scary story telling of the monsters from my mind, a story of getting lost but eventually finding my way— but most importantly, there is a story of our love, where She laces Her fingers into mine (and) the stitching of our pages— intertwine

-written by Madison Yarborough



I am attaching the picture I took right after I wrote this, sitting in front of the woman I love, my muse.


Madison Yarborough - Instagram @writingbymad

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