You have brought me in from the rain, from the wind and enveloped me in warmth. The sunshine has erupted from the lightened clouds, no longer burdened by the girth of moisture that is now weighing my own clothing. Welcomed, wrapped in scents that can only be described and understood by a lover, of pages, of words.
Only to be understood as the calmness that overtakes us in the afterglow of passionate, exhausting sex. A loftiness that carries you from aisle to aisle and never takes on the burden of shopping but of exploring.
Softly running my fingers over thousands of experiences, occasionally gliding over the slick spine of a title, while weighing the implications of plucking it from it's resting place, disturbing it if only for a moment. It is a moment to savor, the crackling sound that occurs when you have chosen, the scent that seems to waif up to you slowly, a gift for you, a sign you have chosen correctly. Fingers dance across the page, as if to absorb some of it's beauty, learn it's secrets.
This can occur multiple times in one visit, for there is so much to see, to touch, to have. You try not to be selfish as you are momentarily brought back to the world when a like soul reaches for your next prey. Thankfully, there are many and no one is robbed of beauty today, only for an instant do you ponder what others are considering when staring at the abyss of possibilities, but soon a new glimmer catches your eye and you are transported.
It is older, rougher than your first choice, a harder life of being used but loved. A feeling of a stubble, a few days old not yet softened by age, but still handsome and sexy. You must have him, take him home and find the perfect place for him.
Too soon it is time to leave, you take your treasures home and are grateful for the experience that has somehow lightened you and brought joy that cannot be replicated.
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