The Smell of It, Always

It hides in the cracks. In the crevices along the black lines, supported by long struts. Small portals of escape, sitting, biding their time, waiting for their next captive. 

The sound of waves as they move, sliding delicately through fingers, tracing over the worlds created with characters blotted in ink. Hoisting you up, plucking you out of the ordinary to bring you into the canvas of sensory imagination. 

Wetting the palate for this delectable hatch won’t ever be quelled, the desire to move through into different worlds never ends. 

The forever longing to use the escape hatch, moving through shadows created in the depths of the mind. Forever devoted to artists, loving the feel, the fantastical. 

Whether you’re eight or eighty-eight, forever feeling the warmth it gives you. Feeling the weight of tomes or novellas in your palms.

Loving the smell of the paper, always.

Illustration by Mara Wiedner