Between the Corners of a Lost Room

Last time they barged in,I had been the
lizard that scurried out between those
big,nasty boots at the door and every
morning since the papers materialize
and unopened,unexplored they add silently
to the stack rising by the days in a corner
of my room where the news of the world
lies languishing ,the dark headlines of disaster
leaping out at me only to bump into the
mountain of books protecting my self
and even in the night they flutter restlessly
their pages grazing against the wall,nearly
waking me up,while I keep up with
my reading ,thinking of how the next time
they march in,searching for me,
I will have shrunk myself to the spaces
between the words I read ,I will feel their
hands rummaging my shelves and before
giving up,unwittingly riffling the book containing
me , then flinging it aside and shrugging their
shoulders before walking away,leaving me
as unread and lost as ever.