waiting for more

the books are everywhere.
i need more shelves.
more space, more room to stack
and store,
to align them
in some order.
i am eating words,
devouring pages,
the ink runs from my mouth,
my eyes go red
in the late hours,
the light on, as i read
before sleep.
i can't live
without books.
each new one is a gift,
a window a door to somewhere
else,
to make me see a new light
a new way,
a place to rest, to grow,
to escape.
i wait for more.