Inside A Bookstore

(Image Source: Pinterest)
The smell of wood and paper
mixed with fresh ink
wafts in the air.
One of them whispers from its shelf,
“Come, get me!”
Another one taps me on the shoulder,
“You’ve read enough humor,
time for some horror, what say?”
They nudge each other
and laugh at my helplessness and indecision.
I want to take them all
and they’re aware of it.
So, they tantalize me
with those hardbound leather covers,
and those exquisite illustrations on the paperbacks.
“I am weak!” I cry.
“Stop tormenting me!” I plead with them.
“We belong with you,
and you with us.”
Their smile drips seduction.
And I give in.
Yet, again.

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