My Book

My books falling apart at the seams

worn out from pages turned

next chapters

the searching for dreams

 

My books becoming pieces

in bits, falling apart

Faded, yellow, sellotaped

Dirt in the creases

 

My books due back in

All worn out, as it is

No story on the paper

No bones under the skin

 

My books missing from the shelf

stolen from the library

heavy fine

Told only to myself

 

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