First the unborn book will lodge itself inside your bones as an echo. You won’t be able to see or taste it, and you might not even recognize it as a book-spirit just yet. But you will notice something has entered your energetic field and curled up by the crackling fire. It has no plans to leave.
Next you will lean a little bit closer and ask what it wants. You begin to feed it at sunrise each morning, noticing a physical form taking shape. Vibrational play-doh in your palms, sticky and fluid all at once. There are no rules here.
You stitch together legs for it with bioluminescent yarn and it responds by teaching you to dance. This laughing stumbling waltz opens and closes the stage of every single day. The book has drizzled every cell in your body in decadent dark chocolate.
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