a world without books

soon, there will be no
books.
no yellowed pages
that smell
of sweet mustiness.
no brittle
covers with bent spines.
there will
be no more dog eared
corners,
no markers to see where
we left off
and will start again.
there will be no card
in the back, stamped,
saying when to return
it to the public
library.
no one will know what
the dewy decimal systems
ever was.
the books
will be gone, stuffed
inside
our phones, our lap tops
behind the lights
of nothingness,
hardly to be touched
or seen again.