"Impressions, Ink..."

Gutenberg, 1440
Printing Press presents
gateways, escapes,
knowledge, life beyond;
muting mundane in chaptered moments
the weight of your spine, bound firm
cradled in kneading, calloused hands
organic musk of pulpy page, made more comfortable with every turn
ignites craving spirit as a slogan to revolution
filling world-heavy heart
with hope, release;
moments caressing each line, type faced
curves, fathom further, deeper meaning
often found, sometimes lost as we oftentimes, ourselves, find
this separate world, safely bound
between protective covers
keeping it safe so it can be
re-read and re-read as an oath or prayer,
comforting, regardless of our seclusion,
despite every story coming to
completion, leaving us
empty again, yet, somehow, full.

We continue to pull from the shelf...
burned, exploited, perceived
in many, many ways - torn, crumpled,
made into boats or planes
ink, like blood, bookmarks places:
paradise, purgatory, hell
I could never put you down,
despite distractions: TV, iBooks, the Net-
those cold plastic and glass projections, unnaturally powered,
void of substance and soul,
my blood, too, marks this page
as a testament to a dwindling empire-
can you feel your immortality?
life in a life,
spelling and weaving ways
that never I promulgated could come to pass,
perpetually bound, fearing only the dust
which inevitably will consume me
in a final chapter, perhaps never fully explored,
wherein, the end.