December 27, 2019 | Poetry
No Ducks Were Harmed in the Writing of this Poem
Daniel Paul
I dreamed we were in a department store trying to buy you shoes.
I dreamed we were in a department store trying to buy you shoes.
“Isn’t there something called ‘Pizza’?” I whispered to my girlfriend one night, awake from a dream; she kissed my forehead, her breath heavy with the sweet smell of cilantro, and sent me back to sleep.