A man wants a book, a new edition to his vast library
An exciting conversation starter for his nightly dinner parties
A man wants a book, one with a red hardcover and a simple plot
Bound tightly at the spine– unopened– unread
One he can skim when he finds the time, glossing over the title page
Silencing the narrator when the words become difficult
So he can summarize its intestines, its beating heart, its breathing message
Only ever based on its first page, never greeting the lively characters
To listen to what they have to say
Never feeling the world within
A man wants a book, for his friends to drool over
To pat him on the back for finding this specific edition,
Lord knows it was hard to find– a hardcover beneath stacks of paperbacks
One that doesn’t surprise him, one with no conflict between the lines
A man wants a book, one decoratively placed beneath candle sticks and coasters
Trapped upon a white marble side table.
Next to all the others he never bothered to read.
