Poet Library

the tsundoku trail beckons me, a promissory path of pleasures to be had, veiled in the haze of unexplored possibilities. i take my first steps into the secret museum, strolling into the forest of forgotten volumes, each one brimming of worlds yet unseen. my breast thrums with curiosity, echoing the eternal rhythm of the psuche: "what lies missing, these dogeared pages?" now that my friends, is the mystery.. “welcome to Poetry Soup.”