The Bibliobibuli

Stare at the bibliobibuli 
The creature recedes into its briar-book patch
Eyes large and unblinking
Tongue as black and thick as ink
She 
(It is almost always a she)
Is a crepuscular creature 
She smells of tea leaves and gentle stains
Of a dusty costume vault, and secrets safe for thousands of years, and sweet copper pendants
Her nest is of paper and leather and dreams 
She isn't there, more often than not
Travels between worlds in the unfurling of a scroll
And when she returns, it is not for long
For her eyes grow glassy and her head tilts, listening to music you will never be able to hear
And her hands reach for ones stuck in other times, and her feet walk invisible yellow brick roads, and her heart longs to go back home