And both covers reunited
With me in between,
For once
it wasn't claustrophobia
that I felt,
It was pure ecstasy,
My mess gathered,
and swept under
the small masses,
That are the yellow colored pages,
Carrying the scent
of something ancient
yet eternal.
Chasing every line,
Like it was my sole purpose in life,
To follow them until I was lost,
Derailed from my walk,
And that's where a far more
fascinating journey begins,
Right under
the brushes of fiction,
Where anything was possible.*

● ● ●