Lost Affair by Fatima Abdul-Aleem

Fatima Abdul-Aleem

Lost Affair

I am crying,

the tears are falling,

down they come.

An outpour of loneliness,

expressed in the only way I know how.

You see,

I miss the warmth,

the feel of  someone’s caress

on my pages.

Massaging my covers,

touching my essence,

as they delve into the words

enveloped inside me.

They seek the promise of escape,

the illusion of make believe,

the power of growth.

I miss their scent.

That sweaty smell

of a hard days’ work,

that lingering aroma

of the morning’s perfume.

I miss being alive.

A thumping passion

in the hearts of the young,

as they eagerly look ahead.

A resounding memory

of the elderly,

as they prepare to exit

this adventure, called life.

For I have been replaced with

touch screens, audio, live feeds.

Machines bellow out my contents,

videos explain what I mean.

Computer keys are punched

to replace his fingers,

her hands.

The melody of the love we shared


for an iPad, a Kindle, a Nook.