Friday 23 May 2014

The bookshelf


The bookshelf, it just sits there
Smiling in mahogany and the scent of varnish

Day after day, she puts her treasures in it
Tolstoy, Carroll, Austen & Hardy

The bookshelf, it just sits there
Happy with yearning and the scent of classics

Night after night, she sat against it
Drinking the words she made them her own

Her bookshelf, it just sits there
Drunk in love and the fragrance of her body.

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