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The American Poetry Review

TWO POEMS

Lying In

On bed rest desire becomes a sheet.
Let it fall over me
without hands. Let it.

Before I knew I was in danger
I did not get up. After,
when I say how long I lay down
how can I make you understand it was an order?

In bed what time has done to me what itto him. I become the mortalpregnant with a god, if only he canbe born.

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