Saturday, February 21, 2015

Musty Old Book

i inhale you.
stagnant air and dust
has never smelled so sweet.
i open your cover--
rigid under my fingertips--
and press my nose
to your jaundiced pages.
your paper, thick,
bends by my will
packed with letters
deliberately placed
to create a river that flows
through the canyons of my mind.
where did you sit,
so many years ago,
when your words were yet to be read?
who kept you by their bedside?
who opened you at nightfall
and immersed themself
in your woven tales?
how many palms
graced your worn cover?
how did your creators labor?
i am not the only one
who has known your story.
but it goes deeper
than the words on your surface
and in that regard you are silent.
as long as your journey
remains unspoken
you will remain on the shelf.
another musty old book
another secret to remain


  1. Ahhhh.
    Beautiful. Beautiful. Beautiful.

  2. Beautiful!

  3. Did you write this? It's amazing! And very, very true.

    1. Yes, I did. Glad you enjoyed it :)

  4. I can't even describe how good this was. You're writing is just asdfghgf amazing. Wow. This was wow. Has to be one of my favorite posts.

  5. THIS. This. this. THIS!!!!


    in love.


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