I am a closed book.

One can’t read me from the beginning to end

Some can get a pick from a page

For others I am beyond comprehension

Nobody can get all of me

A poems collection

One can open me randomly

at selected pages

With one piece to be consumed at a time

One for my children

One for people I love

One for soulmates

One for acquaintances

I only open to few

No one can read me in full

Like blind men reading an elephant

They can only see an ear, or a trunk

Or a foot, or a tail

They can’t see the majestic creature

I am an abstract painting

A dotted art work

Moved from accustomed images

I am not a story

I am a single piece of fruit

To be tasted and savoured

I am a closed book to most

But some may get a pick

Ellina zipman

4 Sept 2015/Melbourne