She smelled of books and stories
Of all the worlds she’d lived within
As though the ink had left the pages
To find a new home in her skin
She didn’t quite belong here
Lived a life within her head
Like she’d slipped out from under the covers
Of a paperback unread
And you’d see it in her eyes
That they were deeper than a well
She was a whole library of stories
That we begged of her to tell
When she spoke the world would listen
To the adventures of her mind
For if there’s such a thing as magic
Then it was something she could find
And her heart had looked much farther
Than her eyes had ever seen
She’d walked on words to places
Her two feet had never been
It’s years now since she moved
And we all failed to keep in touch
So her memory’s all faded
Like a book you’ve read too much
But if she hoped to leave us ink-stained
She should know she did succeed
For even now we still look for her
In every book we read