A Reader’s Death

I step into the bubbly warm hug of the fragrance. My body sinks into the abyss and the heat spreads from the first contact to the top of my body in waves.

I keep just my palms out; dry for the soul soaked pages of the second hand book that has chosen me for this occasion; the celebration of life and all its tiny joys.

For the next hours, days, seconds I read, as my skin takes in the moisture, as my tight bun grows into my skull and fuses with my cranium. I am back to my genesis.

Here and now will be my happy end, where the words dance and my body tingles. With careless abandon, I’m ready to be reborn to my death.

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