Glowing Pear

Because I am sad about the books
with tiny words along their spines

that no one ever reads because
they are too hard and not very interesting,

I am going to build myself a fort
of photographs of things I can’t afford

and Post-It notes of words I know
but am not able to accurately define

and glossy pages from Elle and Oui
and also bark, sticks, berries, and leaves,

and sleep in it for fourteen days
and nights and spend that time in prayer,

thinking of all the fantastic lines
of poetry I know, remembering the nooks

I’ve read them in, and I’ll bring a flashlight
to click on and off when I get bored,

to shine in my mouth and blow up my cheeks
and turn my face into a glowing pear.