Rustle of paper
Scent of pages old and new
The border between the mundane and fantastic
Where worlds collide
Lives come to life
The screams of hundreds
Begging to be heard
The silence thousands
Waiting for someone to stumble across them
Resting in an eternal slumber
Until the right hands come to cradle their spines
The right eyes to rove their bodies
To be inspected
Dissected
Inside and out
A drug
Addling the mind
A hallucination
Pictures and words
Dancing in tandem
Illustrations in every style
Clashing magnificently
A work of art
Never to be duplicated
A single word
Interpreted an infinite number of ways
In the rustle of paper
And the scent of pages
Old and new
~Quill
