I have a stack of vinyls on my dresser.
Some of which I'll never listened to.
Because I thought I should buy
"Greatest Christmas Hits" for five dollars plus tax.

I have a stack perfume samples in my bottom drawer.
I rip them out from magazines,
Shut them in the darkness
Until they lose their scent.

I've always had a thing for stacks.
The way books look stacked on one another.
The way clothes stack up on my bedroom floor.
The way your freckles are stars stacked on your nose.

Last week I went to a bookstore.
It reeked of musk with shelves painted in titles of books
I will never read.
I walked, looking at most but touching one.

When I am with you,
I can't help but reaching for you
Because your skin is braille in the only
Book I picked out of the stacks.