There are so many books
There are so many books I have not read,
narratives in glasses and bouquets, waiting
on the shelves of so many libraries I have not visited,
vanilla pages not flipped in the hours of sorrow
as flowers blossom on my hardwood floors,
and so many cabarets and bistros unknown too,
piazzas, monuments and ice cream parlors,
there are so many ice cream flavors I have not tasted,
sweet leavings unfamiliar to my lips,
so many lips I have not kissed
in this little life,
absurd
and full of yearning,
roses