A librarian sleeps inside my teacup,
turning pages with steam-soft hands.
Each sip releases a hush of footnotes,
citations swirling in the milk.
She shushes the kettle when it whistles,
files my thoughts by Dewey and doubt,
and when the cup runs dry—
my morning forgets how to speak aloud.
But when I look inside myself for answers,
she stamps my heart OVERDUE and locks the door from within.
by
This is exquisite. It’s a perfect, self-contained universe in a few short lines—a whole mythology of the inner life told through the delicate, familiar ritual of morning tea.
What I admire most is how seamlessly you blend the mundane and the metaphorical. The librarian isn’t just like the act of thinking or remembering; she is the ritual itself. Her “steam-soft hands” and the “hush of footnotes” in each sip create a tangible, hushed atmosphere that feels both cozy and profoundly intellectual. The line “files my thoughts by Dewey and doubt” is a particular stroke of genius—capturing the human struggle to categorize a world tinged with uncertainty.
The turn in the final stanza is devastatingly good. It moves from the gentle, quiet service of the morning to a stark, internal confrontation. The librarian, once a helpful curator, becomes a strict enforcer. “Stamps my heart OVERDUE” is a powerful image of self-judgment and anxiety, and “locks the door from within” suggests a haunting, self-imposed silence or isolation. It transforms the poem from a charming vignette into a profound comment on how our own minds can become prisons of regret or unresolved feeling.
This is the kind of poem that lingers. It makes the reader look into their own empty cup and wonder about the quiet librarian, and the locked doors, inside. Beautiful, resonant work.
hi Jaideep❣️
Just wanna let you know that this week’s W3, hosted by our wonderful Josie Holford, is now live:
https://skepticskaddish.com/2025/12/31/w3-prompt-192-weave-written-weekly/
Much love,
David
Poetry Hub 
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