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Biblioisma, a Meditation

The last of the boxes,
musty books I rescued
from my childhood;
they wait to be
unpacked and unveiled
in the waning light
and illuminating truth
of this abandoned
Sunday afternoon;
I’ve procrastinated
seventeen times,
not because of words
they contain,
but for the memories
they will hook
and drag unwillingly
to the surface

...I let them in
...
...I let them go


hand-waxed
hardwood floors
slide between
the sheets of
razor-thin linen,
stealing the smile from
right under my nose;
flax~gilded finery
comes alive in hands
holding tomes in tombs
for dead words ~
God’s Promises,
a gift from my father;
I grip its memory
to my forehead and

...I pull it in
...
...I let it go


I rebelliously keep
my word to this day
because the Almighty
never has to;
once vast and varied,
my collection now
whittled by wisdom
and the unburdening
of shoulders
weighted to slumping,
still decorated in the
torn tapestries
of unrequited
everything

...I breathe it all in
...
...I let it all go

Written by LunaGreyhawk
Published
Author's Note
NaPo 2021 12/30 107 unique words
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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