by LYNAE
Oh, how I love my dear bookshelf
The way he holds and encases me
His frame is nice and sturdy
And somehow his surface is never along
New baggage gets added on to him everyday
Sometimes I worry if I’m a part of it
He’s so wise and bold— all the information he stores
and yet he still ignores
me.
I remember our first encounter
when I was new and fresh—
the best and hottest edition in the living room
All eyes were on me. I mean why
wouldn’t they be? I had that
new book smell and all
of the most recents words in existence. I mean,
I was hotter than chicken grease
(and that’s pretty hot!). Everyone was
focused on me, but me?
I was focused on him. I’d never
seen a bookshelf so strong before.
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