the pages smelled like
wood and plastic,
melted together to create
slips of paper glued together.
who knew the books could save lives?
who knew they could teleport you
into a word where no one lies,
and words that went through?
YOU ARE READING
To The World
Poesia"the inferno of words would be my demise if i did not express them." #501 in poetry #640 in poetry #689 in poetry #692 in poetry
