Books are a jungle Each page unfurling a Forrest of lost possibilities Plots twisting on vines as sweet Fragrances dance in hidden pleasures The words

Books are a jungle
Each page unfurling a
Forrest of lost possibilities
Plots twisting on vines as sweet
Fragrances dance in hidden pleasures
The words squishing in my toes
With deciduous matter that gathers
On moss covered rocks,
Sentences strewn about in the
Bird calls chirping… https://t.co/PzvifjR6ax