Poetry: The Library by Chad Patrick Osorio

The Library

by Chad Patrick Osorio

It was dark inside the library

The only light coming from the dying lightbulb in the low ceiling

Yet there was a certain moistness in the air,

a warmth which excites.

The room smelled of old manuscripts

and the aroma of sun-kissed skin

There were fingerprints on undusted shelves

and an old book fallen open on the floor.

In the corner, a pair of glasses sits askew

as if forgotten in a hurry.

It is silent inside the library

but if you listen closely, you’ll hear the shelves creaking
and sometimes you’ll wonder if the books themselves are moaning.

The library is a place where your fantasies come true.