Cut the paper. One letter after another. Cut them deep. Dig until your hands are buried in tree sap. Carve each letter into a ream of paper.
Shoot the books. Put the muzzle to the author's temple and pull.
Stab needles into every round letter. Dissolve the glue with acid. Drown the pages. Crush them with cannon fire.
Slice off the spines. Decapitate the capitals. Tear along the fold that no pairing remains.
Burn the bodies. Drop them down a shaft so hot and long that they burst, bright, then ash, then nothing but powder down in the dark.
Whatever I do to my bright hair or praised cheeks, you will not get me. I am not there.