My heart finds it easier to breathe here.
Surrounded by cracked spines, spread open wide, intimate details shared readily, because all friends start as strangers.
I thread my fingers between parchment dust coloured pages and before I know it, I’ve waded into the depths.
There is magic here, walking hand in hand with science.
Nearly faded reminiscences of past dance intimately with speculative hope of future interwoven with here and now.
The casual, the serious, the inhale, the exhale.
The entire human experience.
These are stories shared, loved and lost and left behind.
There is comfort here.
There is home.