Step 28: Love Used Books

If you place your nose directly into the center
of a worn and used book-
not an inch above the page
but close
close enough to let the words dance into your body in a deep breath-
you can smell the story of a story.

You can smell the child's crayon
let loose on the pages of a parent's book
or the youthful grumblings
of required reading and book reports.

You can smell the warm coffee spilt and stained
in a bizzarre shape across page 162
as the reader popped up to answer the ringing phone,

or the frantic highlighting and underlining
of the college student determined to get an A,

or the dust of death which left a book
in a brown box under the stairs
until found years later by grandchildren,

and the quiet exchange of words on a page
as lovers read a book aloud in a green park
amidst the high rises and hustle of the city-

all kept alive between two dissolving covers,
between a beginning and an end,
the story within a story.