some would obviously claim,
that i own books,
like i might own a heap
                                        of bricks:
frivolous, "floating" in
the air (metaphor ),
               to conjure up butterflies
                       (assumptions)!
i can always attest
to a mount of rubble,
as a library,
           than a building,
       making reiterations of / for
a shadow...
                      a lot of books,
is: just enough rubble...
      and a personal library,
certainly isn't a rigid structure
to encompass the man in,
                                    possessing it.
muhammad,
   as a compass that defines
a partiality of man...
based upon: fear a man with
only one liber...
                 then i guess the man
with many books...
       is,
         equivalent to a polygamist;
is he?
          there's a curiosity,
  but there is no cat...
               god...
  and back into the whirlwind of
the sole inspiration for
the english continuum,
  a:                pra             a priori -
i.e. always the: grand from (a) before...
          can't help but
look in a mirror, and not see
a monkey...
                    can't people tire
of making indentation
        on an: status quo canvas of:
a monkey reiterating
            an inanimate focus on things?
time is an oblivion,
  and space:
            the blinking of an eye;
considering the uncomfrotableness
           that most
scientific facts are focused on
              an extraction from vermin;
and... whatever the hell that means;
take away the cognitive armchair
and the ego starts
  its frustrated flight akin
                    to the zig-zagging fly.