We go to Ikea on the weekends and purchase bookshelves that line the walls of our small house. Each wall is an emptiness we can’t fill with our words. I want to fill my walls with yours. I pile clothes on my dresser. All the books I own I’ve barely read. My books are fashion statements. I carry one on a strap over my shoulder. I wear the toughest small one on my belt. I try to tell you that there’s nothing in Ikea that will make us dream less. I try to imagine you as tall as a viking. In the dream where we’re Europeans our eyes are blue like facebook. Our eyes are beautiful and full of so much love. In the cabinet section we build a custom cabinet. I tell you all the things I would keep inside. I say IF YOU WERE A CABINET I WOULD CLOSE HANG AN LED LIGHT INSIDE AND STAY THERE FOREVER.
