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The smell
Of knowledge and beauty
Invades my nostrils
As I press my face to the pages.
I have always loved
The crisp sound
As I turn each page,
Individually licking my thumb in preparation.
My finger dances along the edge
Daring it,
And so it does.
Blood drips from my fingertips.
My eyes drink in the fine black print.
Anticipation gathers
As I savour each moment
Until the final act.
Then,
When it comes,
I weep.
Why must all good things come to an end?





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CRAZYcubanSOLE said...
Dec. 10, 2010 at 3:54 pm
Your an awesome writer! i loved all the words really moved me-and they flow so well.
 
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