Oh, what I would do to a library.
Upon entering I would drink in the very smell
The quiet solitude thats so chosen
When one enters a place to read
To be alone with text.

I would sink watering claws
Into the fibers of pages
I would place my face
Into the paper
And lick among the buttery text
Aware of what I'd been missing
The research would be cooing my name
Just like, gain a new thing or two
Leave my crevices more fulfilled.

Like the morning you leave a new lovers bed
And feel that morning glow gain.

Oh, what I would do to a library?
I would record the images of the covers
In my mind
I would slip soundlessly, yet so softly
Into the visual images
My brain and only my brain
Could portray.

Oh, what I would do to a library?
With painted hands, I'd touch every surface
Letting the books call out to me
Letting the titles tantalize me
Until I found a corner
With which I'd sit and
Engulf the airiness of the romantic nature
Of spending time alone
In a lonely yet poetic
Place within which
The hovering feeling of collected words
Took me in its embrace.