Library

Stepping out
into the musty dark
of rotting leaves
I leave my objects within,
searing embers, disappearing,
their smoke-dust still coating
my fingers and nostrils
caking my tongue

I have eaten words,
inhaling them,
iron gall ink
and parchment,
mineral pigments
and tooled leather
for lifetimes

every syllable
crumbling
as I lift it to my mouth
shifting ash
sifting down
drying my vision
with an alkaline pale