ARGO

How does a book know? When I begin reading I’m initiated, I cannot wait for it. I believe it has escaped me once my eyes read something which holds other things. And the book now having buried my memories, calls me to retrieve them from the future I had before meeting the page. I return to the books burial to find the words which are no longer mine. But the words are already reflected in my eyes and I read from a screen anterior to the paper. I envy the book, inert, complete, it never waits for me amidst  its own silence. The book always gives and I can’t know what I have left with it for I can never know what the book has lost.