There’s something strange
About a building
That can disappear in plain sight,
On a bright cloudy day
It is nothing more
Than a trick of the light.
For those who penetrate
The illusion,
Another lies within;
What once resembled
An ice cube
Is melting beneath the skin.
Within the shifting layers,
The humble book
Appears,
Its form unlike
Its holdings
Unchanged for all these years.
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