used book store

the shelves lean
and bend
with the weight
of books.
you can smell
not ink, but
dust, some
leather too,
old books,
once proud
best sellers now
with torn covers
and pages wilted
from being wet,
read
in tubs filled
with hot water,
or beds
at night before
the lights
go off,
turned so
many times,
dog eared
on favorite
pages, some
with names written
on the inside
cover, like shelly
1967, with
a heart in red
drawn in
with her
name, a plus
sign, and jim.
all of them marked
down, stacked
in small towers
awaiting
new eyes, or
old ones
coming back once
more,
for another read.