Fog on her glasses
From the still steaming tea
A book in her hand
As she casually reads
A catch in her breath
As the climax grows near
She is deaf to the world:
The books all she can hear.
She's completely lost now,
Or perhaps she is found
In this strange paper world
That's far from the ground.
YOU ARE READING
Words Unspoken
PoetryThere is a community of the spirit. Join it, and feel the delight of walking in the noisy street, and being the noise. Drink all your passion, and be a disgrace. Close both eyes to see with the other eye. Open your hands, if you want to be...
