Books lay dormant on a shelf,
Reminders of my former self.
Silent. Silent.
But still loud.
Begging me to take them down.
Some speak of a little love.
Some about the Lord above.
Yet others from an unknown time.
Not knowing what was on my mind.
I’ll return to that self one day.
Changing in a cyclic way.
Gently, I’ll take them from the shelf.
Once again, they are myself.


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