I’m grateful for bookshops.

I love the smell of bookshop

It smells like rustling paper

Crisp and itchy like linen

Or whispery thin like wafer

It smells like crunchy stories

The whiff of haste and pace

Or languid atmospheric

Perfume and embrace

It smells like couch and coffee

Like dim candles and red wine

Like deep imagination calling

Us to feast and to divine.


Send me sunshine, light and love! :) Constructive criticism is also welcome.

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