paperbacks and hardcovers
all my life ive looked at words as though reading prophecies written by strangers, waiting to be fulfilled
or those that will never be.
Circumstances jump out at me from Agatha's books-
marooned on a dark island churning my imagination for ways to escape, bloodcurdling screams making both Vera and I shiver on the inside.
sitting at a squeaky clean marble kitchen top, watching Ariel help her father caramelise onions while Mamma runs to their aid.
I lose myself in their laughter, vicariously living the moments I never could.
i submerge myself in a world full of cauldrons, potions broomsticks and wands, using my marauders map to sneak into Hogsmeade for a little taste of butterbeer-foamy and rich
i ponder the prose as Kafka travels across Japan, wondering why it rained sardines and not tuna,
whether Nataka is a cat whisperer or a figment of my interpretation.
a blotch on page 156, as tears stream down my face feeling a deepseated ache, a tenth of Celie's as Nettie walks away from the farm.
theres an emptiness beyond ones reach
gaps here and there,
neatly filled in with words,
as we live lives that arent ours,
running away from reality or seeking our own.
in different fonts, languages and covers.