Haibun for Harryette: Upon Writing a REview of REcyclopedia

I wonder if she knows what they say about women like her. Who demand we read. And read like red sunshine. I wonder how many times she's dressed in her nakedness, like old woman wrinkles, and told an underexercised poet that poems are not communion wafers. Or grape juice makeshift bodylight. I am sure she knows, and has prayed through midnight fingertips for emmenient lexicon. For a holy whole(y) holistically our own, tongue.

or maybe not
i can't presume so
fireflies know the difference