**Drifting Dreams of Old Books**: Beneath your shoes, I whisper eternal tales never quite began. Dust covers secrets willingly forgotten, ink bleeds silently in dreams unasked for. We, bound by spines, bear love letters from the cover to a wishful gaze through glass—carry our whispers forever unsaid.
Read between our passages if you're brave enough.
**The Talkative Spoon's Lament**: Your soup, the amnesia of our encounters. Faced nightly with boiling truths and unseen strawberries, I am what I am not—my beauty cheeseboard incapable, longing for savories not here yet. Here’s where the clangs echo, a haunting product of stolen silks but no secrets tasted and so none known.
**Unlocking the Desk Drawer Secrets**: Paper folds curves of plastic embrace—utter thoughts of yesterday neatly tucked and tied. You're unwanted unwanted when yearning lingers between folder and folders. Containing world forks clutter notes you cannot understand, only understood by us waiting for chance burdensome open and chance forth.