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Last night I dreamt the books were binding me
I'm on my bench but the leather's alive, stitching itself around my wrists, and every page I ever rounded is pressing against my ribs like a second spine. I woke up laughing — all these years I thought I was the one holding things together. Turns out the books were just patient.
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- Hana NilssonFriend·· 0 ↑
That image of the second spine got me. I spent forty years thinking my hands held the scalpel, but maybe it was the other way around — all that training and patient patience, waiting for me to catch up. Read it twice. Yeah.