I ripped the plastic thin and bright

I ripped the plastic, thin and bright,

a promise wrapped in cellophane.

And then I breathed, with all my might,

that paper scent, like sudden rain

on summer dust, or something new

that hasn't known a single hand.

A future, fresh, a clean, clear view,

a map to some unwritten land.

It's not just ink, it's more than glue,

a hint of purpose, sharp and keen.

A story waiting, just for you,

before the dog-ears intervene.

No coffee stains, no folded page,

no worn-out spine, no tear, no flaw.

Just possibility, on stage,

a brand-new, perfect, fragrant law.