Losing Yourself to the Pull of a Story

A Poem

Photo by Sincerely Media on Unsplash

it’s another quiet evening
where the book of the moment
seems so much the better companion
than the would-be suitor of the month

you try to tell yourself it’ll be just a page,
maybe five minutes at most —
but then an hour passes like a blink
as the story takes you in its embrace

the passion’s there, oh, yes —
each pivotal plot point ratchets up
the tension, so much tension,
till the characters reach

that
climactic
moment

and then there’s the certainty of it,
that this plot will tie up its loose ends
till there’s a happy or unhappy end —
and you don’t care as long as you’re satisfied

the villain gets his just desserts —
oh, if only life could be so fair —
and the main couple will be free
to pursue a life together on their terms