The Library | Poem

Surrounded by your words I am
in my atmosphere. How could I be
so lost and
so found
and feel so
when these words
are not my own?

And yet through your stories
I begin to see shards of myself;
From the shattered fragments of
your dreams I see the future and
what’s to come

If your words were to fall
upon me I could drown
in their weight, choke on
the pain β€” I know that pain and
I know that love and that cat
and that hovercraft and I know
that these are the twisted threads
of your imagination
because I feel them twisting
through the loom in my hands
and out it comes,
a tapestry of this
Great Conversation

The owls of the library croak,
Who are you?
Who are you?
Who are you?