Between the pages

Immersed deeply between the pages of a book,  I sometimes find myself hiding behind the words wishing I could say it so clearly, terrified that I want to.

Things we could never say to each other are written by people with a flair for mining up memories most of us are too terrified to even admit are there.  Maybe they aren't there for lots of people, that's why no one brings them up.

Chimeras wind in and out between the stick fences that divide the thens from the nows, getting lost in the natural shadows of everyone's childhood, taking away the credibility of those who saw them.

So when I read a book that is unspeakably beautiful, or equally unspeakably haunting, I find myself not feeling as alone as I did before I read it.