Big, big books

Open it, the bookshelves at the back of my eyes

Every moment is there, I swear

Every detail as well

Dusty but each letter is blacker than ink

An index of highlights and nuances

I keep them there for my punctured mind won't let them go

Tomes, I carry tomes

As heavy as bulls

Sometimes, most times, I wish they had wings

Codices and codices

With overwhelming volumes

This can't be the weight of paper, can it?

Fire won't solve this, I've tried

But it's fine

Because I can reference anything

And they say that that never fails to spark a smile

That's better than any gift, I believe

So, here's one book from a past encounter

Do you recognize it?

No?

It's alright.