Isn’t it amazing how we can find, and lose, ourselves all at once?
Their spines are like ours, standing straight, waiting for the right person to come and love us and crack our spines open so all of our beautiful stories spill out.
It’s comforting.
Isn’t it amazing how we can hear ourselves in them?
We’re just like them, really-- we take all our heart and soul and neatly print and package them away underneath our covers.
Just like magic.
You can smell their pages--a pleasant scent that reminds me of the color yellow and coffee and my grandmother’s armchair.
Perhaps I’ll stay lost just a little longer.