She
closed the book,
placed it on the table
and finally decided
to walk through the door.
For her, a lifetime of corruptions
were then dispelled.
You were suspected.
I was an implement.
They would do nothing.
placed it on the table
and finally decided
to walk through the door.
For her, a lifetime of corruptions
were then dispelled.
You were suspected.
I was an implement.
They would do nothing.
The book could encompass
what otherwise impossible thoughts
might carry the imaginer away in their dreams.
Delivering that final comeuppance,
the journey of a lifetime, or simply to re-exist.
One need only cast their thoughts into those pages.
One
of the romantic verses could revive a lost love.
And who wouldn’t pay the price?
The elevator had been serviced dozens of times,
and none could circumvent its curious course.
Some whispered a curious curse
when it arrived at the lobby with no one on-board.
All weren’t lost, indeed, many returned
after fabulous adventures or a miraculous cure.
Always, there lay the book,
And who wouldn’t pay the price?
The elevator had been serviced dozens of times,
and none could circumvent its curious course.
Some whispered a curious curse
when it arrived at the lobby with no one on-board.
All weren’t lost, indeed, many returned
after fabulous adventures or a miraculous cure.
Always, there lay the book,
often
a token.
Her's
was a baby shoe.
This
decision might be her last.
With
breath held,
The
gate slid shut,
the
elevator cage dropped like a rock.
