My Fantasies
I love your smell--
dusty parchment and
sweet ink.
The crinkle of
your pages as
your words march
across them.
You are
beautiful.
Even as your cover
rips and
tears,
your binding
wears away.
You are beautiful.
As your pages grow
soft,
as your corners
crease,
you grow evermore
beautiful.
You are my
solace,
my escape.
I can delve into your
pages and get
lost in your
world.
You melt my
troubles,
like ice cream left
in the sun.
You understand my
fantasies,
my hopes,
my dreams.
You shape
who
I
am
and show me
anything’s
possible.
In this ode I worked to improve conventions.
dusty parchment and
sweet ink.
The crinkle of
your pages as
your words march
across them.
You are
beautiful.
Even as your cover
rips and
tears,
your binding
wears away.
You are beautiful.
As your pages grow
soft,
as your corners
crease,
you grow evermore
beautiful.
You are my
solace,
my escape.
I can delve into your
pages and get
lost in your
world.
You melt my
troubles,
like ice cream left
in the sun.
You understand my
fantasies,
my hopes,
my dreams.
You shape
who
I
am
and show me
anything’s
possible.
In this ode I worked to improve conventions.