A Gap In The Clouds

Closed books
do their best
to elicit a memory
of being written

When open
they emit
virginity
old age
sacrifice

Closed books
reveal
nothing
except for the curious

Open
their odorous lust
tells
their tales

Closed books
remain silent
out of sunlight
indoors
broken

Pages
flutter
through time
feelings
dreams

until,
dust
becomes them

until,
they close themselves