I teetered on the brink of a book

Its fragrant words & structure 

sucking me into the hand-stitched binding

Embossed with gold leaf, its cover flaunted itself

Like a literary geisha pandering to my wanton need

I playfully thumbed through a few pages

Its musky allure teasing my nostrils 

Suddenly, a voice from another realm spoke:

“Have you got my book in there?”

I nervously shuffled upon my porcelain throne

She wasn't getting it back

We had become as one

“Hurry up!” the voice demanded

I eyed the holder of the roll

One damned sheet

teetering on transparency!

A conundrum it was indeed…