Teach me

I'm sitting on a shelf in a purple carpeted library. The walls could be a more attractive color, but the patrons aren't here for the world around them. They're here to corner pages and bend spines.
I'm sitting on this shelf, and I'm waiting for a hand to be enticed by my title and golden spiraled font. I don't even need too much of a coax, even a bump of this shelf will send me fumbling to the ground. I'll spill open and you'll blush at the break of silence. As you lean to clean up your accident you'll catch a few words, maybe an illustration, and maybe you'll be interested enough in the brief connection to curiously flip through more.
"Read me, let me fill your imagination with fragrances of loved pages and un-edited passages"
You have the choice to put me back, or hold me for as long as you need. I'm in your hands, but I'm just as free to wander these sections as you are. Every turn fills my eyes with new editions I haven't seen before. Each will have something for me to relate to as I yearn to learn more about the world, the past, and the completely unfathomable. Some of these albums are untouchable, many unreadable, but they all sit in my vision long enough to be contemplated. Where will this take me? How might these words rip me apart and sew me back together? What piece of the trilogy is this, if I fall for this section can find the other novels?
This world is a library. The people can be so seemingly simple on the surface, and we can choose not to read past the title. The essays we catch from reviews and articles can give us opinions on what we might connect with, or be disillusioned by.
We might put the text down for awhile, or go back and re-read it as a comfort. The reader might assume too much and skip a few chapters, or find a mystery they aren't completely involved in. There's always a choice, and it's sometimes easy to look past the unknown stories.
It's so much effort to learn the prose of these new paperbacks, to deal with the plot twists in these stiff-spined volumes. If I put down every work that didn't feel right in my hands, or put away the dissertations with excessive vocabularies that sent my mind into a whirl, I wouldn't have the collection I adore today. Not every story will read like a bestseller, and the romance novels all deserve a chance to become a solid work of non-fiction.
When I open my pages, I can't control if you like what you see. I can't always employ the best artist for the picture I want to portray. I can hope you fall in love with the characters and stories I intertwine with. Personally, I find this story has so much more to attain, terminology to understand, and chapters to begin. I'm excited to feel the compulsion to continue, I have so much more to write, and even more to read.