She had a dream in which she found,
beneath each bed and within each drawer,
loaves of bread, broken, crumbling.

Hidden behind each radiator and stuffing
the bookcases were bread.
Coating everything were crumbs.
Her pockets were crammed with crumbs
and she flung them out and, still,
it was as if there was a moist lining within them.
The next day they were full again.
Was she being courted by a baker?

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