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Bed in the River
by
Joan Shelley
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In a bed in the river I met with a swan and held it while it died The swan was just one thing I carried along The bodies of old things, poisons, and cloth This tar, this plastic, my constant resistance I am the river, my lover, my distance In a while, flee with me, please, to the woods Hibernation envy you suffer, my sweet You stare at the sky and I'll stare at my feet This hedge, this sheet, your seamless resistance I am the river to give you a**istance
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