Touch her spine,
Feel the cracks
And the bends.

Breathe her in,
The soft vanilla-earthy smell.

Open her up
And feel her softness
Within her bindings.

She’ll tell you stories,
Trap you in worlds with her words,
Paint a paradise out of paraphrasing
History.

With time
Her precious smooth exterior
Will be cracked aged leather.
But loving attention
Gives her smile lines,
And she’ll never lose
Her seductive allure.

She’ll leave you,
Feeling that you’ve finished
With her,
But you’ll be left lonely
In your own head,
Longing for her
To weave you
More wonders.

She’s a temptress,
She’s a liar,
She’s knowledge,
She’s wisdom,
She’s a universe,
She’s a limitation,
She’s an opinion,
Or a truth.

She’s a book.