A Precious Book
I want to read you between the lines
You’re a precious book.
My god, the engravings, the marvellous details and the exotic title.
A gorgeous book to the eye, Hard, but velvet in the hand, A wonder, I thought, to the mind.
I’ve opened the cover Touching, ever so gently, Each band of your spine.
I've read your prologue written in crimson letters and hardship sweat.
Hooked on your story, You, I don't want to miss. You're my night stand bliss.
[a E.]
A precious book is a mix of ideas I started jotting down, where I delight in the metaphor between the book and the muse of this writing. I've come up with 4 parts, up until now.
This is the first. The next is a side note on past books: