by Karma Bennett
I ravish books. I like a book
that’s been around the block, I can see
where others dog-earredly
tired of it. Books are meant
to be handled, their backs
arched, their spines scarred. There is no shame
in a little highlighting, even a little
bruising, now and then.
A naked book calls to me, “Use me,”
it says, “and when I’m done
with you, I want your best friend
and then your sister.” A book
is a cheap date. Enough
of treating books like delicate,
pale-faced schoolboys. I want
a book with tattoos, enraged opinions
marked on its skin. Come here
I want to get inside of you, touch me
in that place only you know, touch me there
I will toss aside your virgin pages before
we reach last chapter together, switching
to a more experienced companion.
I will read seven books at once.
I will give good head-
ers to your footers, I will leave you
lying splayed open for anyone to see. We
will fantasize that someone will discover you
as I found you, pages wide open. They will slide
their finger down your crease
and sink deep into you
for the long night ahead.
Karma Bennett lived in the South for two decades but has escaped to Oakland, CA. She is currently president of the Berkeley California Writers Club. Her most recent publication was in the book Collosus: Home, a collection to benefit Moms 4 Housing. She runs the website Subversas.com.
Listen to Karma Bennett's SOREN LIT interview: https://anchor.fm/melodie-rodgers/episodes/Karma-Bennett-SOREN-LIT-Fall-Issue-2021-e1bsq1j