Some people prefer a keen and perfect
Cutting edge, a right-angled sheet trimmed neat
With borders that might snick an errant
Fingertip. Others play it safer, seek
Corners that are curved or bevel, the better
To deflect attack, embraces and attention.
My own predilection is for the deckled
Indents of a homemade page, fibre-flecked
And textured like a slept-in bed still dented
From the press of its residents, a set
Of lovers well fitted to each other’s
Folding flaws, growing more attached each week
As they fade and sag and grey together.