Bookish

 

1 – Reading Rooms, Bodleian Library

 

She trails her finger down the paper slips

that fill the ancient catalogues until

she finds the books she wants, then softly sings

her way up stairs that creak like those in old

romance, to choose a chair of English oak

and wait, and read of Gamelyn and Horn

and stare through leaded windows on a view

of spires and sky that makes her catch her breath.

The young librarian with horn-rimmed specs

walks over with her order, and a note:

Shelfmark I like your books. King’s Arms at 8?

All day she sits and works. At 5.18

she scribbles Yes and as she leaves he sees

the note alight like gold leaf on his desk.

 

 

 

 

2 – Hertford College Library (Basement)

 

‘No students here tonight,’ she whispers in

the reference section. ‘Talk clever to me.’

Giacomo Casanova was a useless librarian.

She laughs, I smile, we peel our jackets off.

I kiss the dark below her ear. ‘Your turn.’

If you put Saturn in water it would float.

Her hands draw circles in my hair. My mouth

goes to her blouse and tooths each button free.

Some historians regard the period 1914-1945

as a twentieth-century Thirty Years’ War.

She pulls my shirt aside to trace the square

black script on my left shoulder: Silence Please.

Sunspot activity may be the primary reason

for the exquisite sound of Stradivarius violins.

The room is chill, her breath is warm across

my neck; her hair is black and smells of ink.

In a process called cold welding, two surfaces

of similar metal will strongly adhere

if brought into contact under vacuum.

With eyes and fingers, lips and tongue I start

to catalogue her creamy vellum curves.

For Elias, society is like a group of dancers.

Each individual’s gestures and movements are

synchronized, meshed with those of the others.

She reaches up behind her head and grips

the grey steel shelf (Law Journals X to Z).

‘Sublime’ comes from ‘sub-limen’ (Latin) meaning

‘up to the threshold’. The sublime makes us experience

a visceral limit, takes us beyond language, to the realm

of the groan, a wordless expression of acute pleasure.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

3 – Radcliffe Camera, Bodleian Library

 

We have made love at every compass point

and some between, in pre- and post-work hours

on long oak tables, hard and warm, and through

the high arched windows there is sometimes sun

and sometimes rain and fog but always green.

All Soul’s, St Mary’s, Brasenose seem to turn

their backs but still blush red in the evening sky

and glow an icy blue in winter dawn.

I’ve spent so many hours in here that there’s

a space inside my head this shape, this height,

this light, where walls of books make open rooms;

so here I lie inside myself and look

at him and know that this will be the place

I will crawl back to always in my dreams.

 

 

 

 

 

4 – British Library (Newspapers), Colindale

 

They fight in whispers by the microfiche

machines, pretending it’s about how long

she works each day. He tries to make a joke

to calm her down, to jolt her eyes to their

old focus: him. ‘Why read this stuff? You’re not

a harsh-reality girl.’ Her eyes are ink.

She hisses. ‘Don’t you tell me what I am!

It’s time we put an end to this.’ And leaves.

Once home he’s unsure how he found his way

to catch the bus. He sees the battered tin

of Lapsang Tea and throws up in the sink.

Her room is dark. She sits with open eyes,

a closed book on her lap. Her belly hurts

like being kicked; she knows that this means blood.

 

 

 

 

 

5 – British Library, St Pancras

 

They wear white gloves and speak in cotton tones.

He thanks God that his colleague’s ill, so he

must bring the manuscript and sit with her

in awe of this rare thing, this ancient book

with quiet vellum leaves and square black script

and breathing pigments: red from dragonblood

and blue from azurite and grassy green

from verdigris, and gold leaf like the sun.

He finds he can exhale and then draw breath.

She finds her wooden chair is like a bed.

It might be her, or him, who looks into

a bookish face (once-loved, still young) and speaks:

Without the exquisite proximity

of you, body and brain, all words print white.

 

 

 

Ailsa Holland is a poet and translator. She makes the photo-poems blog ailsaandlisa with Lisa Williams, photographer: ailsaandlisa.wordpress.com