A poem

Leather bound, ornate and well read,
Her fingers kneaded the cover,
Shes a faithful bibliophile,
A collector and book lover,

An impulse latched her true desire,
Eyes scanned around, that which enticed,
Casing the library, before,
Furtively committing the heist,

With a sly slight of hand she slipped,
The book from table to pocket,
A devious dart to the door,
She was away like a rocket,

She fetishised all types of books,
Genres, size, shape, purchased or loaned,
Cardinal condition complied,
They all must already be owned,

Nature of a biblioklept,
To her, stealing books is an art,
Potent thrills came with a bookmark,
Powerful, she felt to outsmart,

Once she started, she couldn’t stop,
Bedroom walls, a fort with the loot,
Far from a the average bookworm,
She’s a dyslexic to boot!

Original poem by © Darius the Mate

What is life without community? I would love to connect with other nicecissists out there. Reach out, let me know what you think in the comments, and of course, give me a follow for more – nice!

Exploring mental and physical

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