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Between her and me.

Each night she drew near Bandaged feet painted mouth To blow gently on my eyebrows And wake me without frightening me Bittersweet virtue With smooth waist encircle With a magic cord that above all Must not be untied And during the embrace my hands My teeth my sex were dying Of not being able to solve this mystery Nor even realize that there was one She went away before morning Her back lacerated her sides bleeding On quiet steps without smiling And left me with the drops Of an ointment that fell from her cord On the edge of the soiled bed where I could hear The rising sun heavy with questions.
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Author:Martory, Pierre; Ashbery, John
Publication:The American Poetry Review
Date:Sep 1, 1993
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