Day 26: Glossy (ALT)

The library in winter smells like our front hall closet,
leather shoes and coats that have dried from rain.
But the magazines in their shiny plastic covers
Crackle like summer with pink lipstick,
Electric blue cars, and sideways glances.
The one I want is as heavy as granny’s Sears Catalog.
I take it to the corner table near Large Print,
Under my arm the way uncles carry bibles.
I flip, study, dog-ear. Every shoulder,
Every neck, every matte mouth and merciless incisor,
Every wool, fur, and drape comforts me.
I’ll choose one to fold, like a ticket,
Into my pocket.