Inserted into bound ancient tomes.
A facination with sprawling papyrus.
Ideas and dreams inprisoned on bookshelves only to be made eternal by gum arabic.
Soft print lays over hands resting placidly,
The organic material begins to defat and yellow.
Falling and decaying are the yellowed leaves of this book as the trees in November.
I need to leave my house, but it gets harder & harder every day. *shrugs* Guess I'll have to get used to being around people again......*sigh*
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