Reading, as an absolute necessity, like eating or reading heal. Read to appease an insatiable desire to live differently. Read to live through another, the writer, to suck the honey it was good enough to leave between lines. Read to give life to his hopes, the greatest: to be read. Read to touch the beauty just the fingertips. Read to tour, perform, identify, fill with force. Read to understand that we have found a way to cling to life. Read because, anyway, nothing better transcends man. Take a book and feel, the smell of paper, ink, glue. Take a book and wrap up in cotton wool for my confidence, pose a watchful eye on its cover. Take a book and shake awaited to hear that he too is happy to have arrived here. Take a book, only read the first lines and succumb. Read the second chapter and smile, looking up to heaven. Read last chapter and cry to close permanently. Take and leave a book on the corner of the table, battered, tired of having given everything. Lay read a book with the soul of an orphan.
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