A world unseen
She smelled of books and stories,
Of all the worlds she had lived within,
As though the ink had left the pages
To find a new home in her skin.
And you would see it in her eyes,
That they were deeper than the ocean,
She was a whole library of stories,
That we’d beg of her to tell,
For if there is such a thing as magic,
Then it was something she could find.
Her memory’s all faded,
Like a book you have whole heartedly learnt,
For even now we still look for her,
In every book we read.