Like an Old Book

I've read this Sunday,
I lay you on my chest
After the day’s chores.

From this recline
I'll open the pages
Of a dream where you are
A princess missing
One of her glass slippers.

(And I, a prince
Whose role, for sure,
By now, you know.)

So how are you?

What have you felt lately
Save from the rise and fall
Of this ribcage?