She woke, not feeling her heart.
Much was said; less was done.
“Tell me you love me.”
When what-ifs turn to done deals.
The dress came alive when worn.
”It’s a scan.”
”But of what?”
Her mirror now showed someone else.
A wilted flower makes most noise.
Iron bends; she flamed the fire.
“Bibliophile’s Achilles heel: books about books!”