It must be done. Sift
through the books, save what you must,
box the rest for sale.
A life of random
impulsive choice on display.
No love lost, perhaps.
But whiff the gutter,
touch the creamy page, admire
the font’s edge: your loss.
It must be done. Sift
through the books, save what you must,
box the rest for sale.
A life of random
impulsive choice on display.
No love lost, perhaps.
But whiff the gutter,
touch the creamy page, admire
the font’s edge: your loss.