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by jschechter
Last updated 8 years ago

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It was worth running my eyesover curved book pages, herding them and out of beautiful words, that rest gently on the page. It was worth breathing in the fibers;because they might as well be the thin orange dust of butterfly wings. It was worth sitting by the cool, wide windowthat blew manes of wind through its cracks and cornerslate in the spring night,where the blue moonlight would pour from the iced pitcher of the skyto pool in puddles of light upon my pages. It was worth running my eyes, through the valleys of sweet images, until they lay down like sleepy stallions in the grass.

Reading in the Dark


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