If I could I would live here.
Between the ruddiness and rusted pages.
I would sleep with Mark Twain.
And get lost between the covers
With Whitman and Poe.
Twisting fate into burning embers of Bradbury.
I would set up camp with Huxley in a far corner.
Build a Brave New World of my own.
Marked in black and white -
But we make our own colors here.
And I,
I warm by the fire
Sipping tea with Dickinson
And wait for spring.
Between the ruddiness and rusted pages.
I would sleep with Mark Twain.
And get lost between the covers
With Whitman and Poe.
Twisting fate into burning embers of Bradbury.
I would set up camp with Huxley in a far corner.
Build a Brave New World of my own.
Marked in black and white -
But we make our own colors here.
And I,
I warm by the fire
Sipping tea with Dickinson
And wait for spring.
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.
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