Poem: the library is a tardis

6 inklings - saturday


Source: bookriot.com

in this quiet place
the books whisper to me
the arms of ikea furniture
hug my shoulders
and i sink into the ocean of words
dying is easy
among the tombs of the long lost
pens and ink that escaped
the clutches of death
the scientists are wrong
the writers are wrong
we are time-travellers
we time travelled centuries ago
there were no worm holes
there were always other universes
and the gatekeeper
of past and present
is the librarian.

– cumuloq ❤


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