Anna Karenina.

The yellow crisp paper
of the ancient hardbound
melts between these leather
fingers of mine
as the dingy aroma
takes me into 
the old pages of my life
sepia-tinted days
when I drowned in the 
wafting aroma of the fresh pages
back when the young man inhabited me.
Today I give away, this now old, embittered youth
to my inheritance
with beaming eyes and a fruitful life awaiting;
For ever.

 

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