I am an open book.
Read me from cover to cover.
Perhaps you may discover
That my chapter and verse
Are interesting enough
For you to immerse
Your imagination, as such,
And envision me as much
Take me into each open pore
As you steadily learn to explore
Beyond what is written
In black and white,
A much more provocative sight.
Behold, you can bring into light
That which fulfills every yearning
And keeps your heart and soul turning
Each individual page,
Wanting, no needing, to know more
What lies deeper than mere words.
The emotional journey
Which you don’t want to hurry,
That tugs at your core,
Causes every sense to heighten and soar.
From the soft-sounding sibilance
To the thunderous use of alliteration,
The story reaches its climax.
You feel yourself juxtaposed.
Before you, the book is now closed
And you put me away,
Only to come back
To read me over again some day.
So now I sit closed on my shelf.
Waiting and wanting
To feel my pages
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