A Book Writes Me

the scent of elder knowing in musty pages 
and commiseration bound in tanned leather 
the temptation to abscond 
to an affair of the mind 

every time I crack your spine 
I crack a smile- the moxie 
greedily coveting your cover panels 
lonely hands filled with familiar locution 

your linguistic mantras hold me tenderly 
as I immerse myself in dog-eared hypnosis 
forget and forsake the nefarious reality 
and push out the interloping anxiety 

retreat to reverie 
take me anywhere- 
           The Escapist