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                                    Bernadette Geyer

Pill in my mouth too tough
to chew, too bitter to swallow:
I suck the meat that clings
to it beyond compulsion.

There are days when I gnaw
at you, teeth bared and working
at some stubborn sinew
that won’t part from its stone.

Be assured: if I did not love
you so, I’d have spat you
to the pavement, like a seed
not even fit for planting.

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