Bibliosmia

4 days ago by @shuttlebat

Liner Notes

Months ago, a friend of mine said the sentence, "“Books deserve that long descent from use to bibliosmia and age”, and it stuck with me hard. So, this is a love letter to the old book smell, the softness that comes with well loved paperbacks, and the delight of that journey.

Lyrics

There’s a sweetness to the air
It only grows with time and care
As pages loved are stored the proper way
Touch of driest dust and skin
Mingles with the ink therein
To fill the room you’re standing in today

Handle soft, don’t crack the spine
Lifted gently from its line
Within the shelves assorted row by row
Love her dearly, hold her well
For she has her tales to tell
And forever on she wishes all to know

Her form transcends the ages
Carrying your words and thoughts
She has earned her dog eared pages
And her faded printed dots
As her edges start to yellow, hold her high
Hear her legacy within a tired sigh

Stacking high beside your bed
As her sentences are read
Or tucked gently into bags to travel wide
Paperbacks begin to drape
As they settle in their shape
Softening beneath a gentle finger’s glide

Gilded details long to fade
As the solid tomes are splayed
For to soften means the legend has been loved
Flattened chapters start to curl
With humidity’s unfurl
Curves created with the heated sun above

Her form transcends the ages
Carrying your words and thoughts
She has earned her dog eared pages
And her faded printed dots
As her edges start to yellow, hold her high
Hear her legacy within a tired sigh

No fear held for pixels small
For they are no threat at all
Lightning only holds a moment in the black
Needing no power or charge
Book forever stand at large
With a manual touch that the tech does lack

You can look back through the page
Seeing all the love and age
For the covers hold within them where she’s gone
Finger smudges, drops of tea
Here to stay eternally
Or until inherent vice starts catching on

Her form transcends the ages
Carrying your words and thoughts
She has earned her dog eared pages
And her faded printed dots
As her edges start to yellow, hold her high
Hear her legacy within a tired sigh

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