Is it escapism
to take down from the shelf again
that old classic that you love - 
turning the dog-eared pages 
with that familiar anticipation?

Is it merely comfort-seeking to watch
time after time
the film that is so brim-full of loveliness
that you weep again
and something in you is healed 
for a moment?

I think it is a wish for the immortality of love
of every kind.
Something so real 
is going to one day be done
and you will wish over
and over
that it was not.

Then take down from the shelf once more
the memory of that love.

Turn the pages until they are worn.

Feel once more the warmth - 
it will always be there.