Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Nose in a Book

Nose in a Book


I breathed in deeply

warm, light, woody scents, and then

I curled right up on a shelf.

My toes caressed the hard covers;

My lips brushed the soft, cracked spines of paperbacks.

The paper, stained by skin oils, fanned against my breast.

Ink on my tongue.

Pressed against my ears,

the clicking of a keyboard.

Lay against my fingertips,

the edges of pages.

Brush marks in the dusty corners

betrayed my eyelashes

had kissed the oak.

And in the arms of words,

paragraphs of gentleman-like eloquence,

I fell asleep.


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