Are my pages blatantly scattered beneath a magnifying glass
Are my cursive strokes that easy to interpret, to scrutinise
The meaning of being an open book has transpired into one you loan rather than buy
One you can easily return when a new release catches your eye
Maybe if my chapters weren’t as transparent, littered with overwhelming reckless punctuation.
Would that be worth your reading?
Something pristine, calculated, a hard copy which you can forever highlight, analyze, and study.
You await for that overdue notice, for when the library decides to take a piece of itself back.
So you are free of the effort of returning it yourself










