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