House Of Glass

I tell this story to you after I get back in my sleep. The shrubs on the pillow want me to remember your smile the last time you came to me.
Nothing special from this library. A stack of books that are ignored from people who are walking. The fan is too close to the face and will make you fall asleep in the corner.
There was a young man reading a rhyme book somewhere else. His face was facing the window while his book was asleep. Hope that everyone in this silence will return to being a six-year-old boy.
There was an old lady on the edge of a fiction bookcase. His face will remind you of the tangled leaves his master eats. His purple hat seemed to take you back to the bridge and the road you used to walk.
I'll tell you this story again. So you do not have to go back, and remember if this story I ever told you