by, Heather Keyser

Target stores,

with their shiny floors

and fully stocked shelves,

entered my dreams

as I slept in my purple bedroom

when I was 10.

These were chase scenes,

where a bad guy pursued me

down the towering aisles,

and I opened bottles and bottles

of shampoo,

all there for my taking,

any brand I wanted,

and I brazenly poured them

on the floor,

unleashing a viscous

pearlescent river,

until we were slipping in it,

then swimming.

No one could catch me.

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