This is my adaptation of a prose poem by Michel Fardoulis LaGarange
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The Incomplete
During that time we went to the poorly lighted back room of a bookstore. There, we labored to decipher ancient inscriptions on the eroded walls.
By doing so we hoped to enrich or supplement the knowledge we had already gained from conventional books.
The wall's writing referred only to the rudiments of archaic reading. There was a notably absence of long passages.
In that feeble light, however, the ongoing relationship between ourselves and the studious atmosphere of the room was enough to revive volumes of words, spelled by erased letters.
