Between

place a finger upon the dust
purse your lips and inhale
exhale, slowly, and blow
the particles away

watch how they dance
in the air watch how
they spin in a wild
dance descending
into ecstasy and
painting stories
before your
smiling
eyes

grasp the worn

out

corners and rifle
the pages
whispering of
worlds
beyond this life
the past
the future, now

sometimes I see you
between
the pages in my hands
but sometimes you

disappear

and I’m stuck
between
the dust protectors
staring at the ceiling
and whispering
the same song
wanting your eyes
to come and

make it beautiful
again

~*~

Happy World Book Day!

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