By Lucas Wildner
I enjoyed daydreaming your face
before I removed my blindfold.
Your beauty is an apple tree
that grows the most delicious pears.
When we hold hands and stroll,
dogs walk around us. Wise dogs.
You will never die.
And I hope you will never die.
To keep your face free from sorrow,
I can retell the story of Ophelia’s dreams.
We stand in a field, gazing
at the clouds, our mouths open.
Lucas Wildner teaches and hikes in Washington. He serves on the advisory board for the Tucson Poetry Festival. Recent work lives at Feminist Wire and Entropy.