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Pill

Jan. 27, 2014
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The good, thick wool of it.

 

Whorl of ointment.

The bandage lovingly applied.

 

Come, night. Come, sleep.

Come, fog, wreathed in feather

and sift. My face

cast impassive as a queen.

 

The cut white moon.

 

The selfsame body beside me

in bed, so sweet

and still I could die for her.

 

Ice-drift

and near-miss in early morning traffic.

 

My palm like a crumpled kiss.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rebecca Dunham is the author of three collections of poetry, most recently Glass Armonica (Milkweed Editions, 2013). Winner of the 2013 Lindquist & Vennum Prize, she has also received an NEA fellowship and was the Jay C. and Ruth Halls Fellow in Poetry at the Wisconsin Institute for Creative Writing. Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Kenyon Review, FIELD, The Southern Review, and Alaska Quarterly Review, among others. She teaches in the creative writing program at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee.

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