Winter 2000 • Vol. XXII No. 1 Poetry |

Forbidden Poem

In this place where we reside by touch, you narrow against me, brush my mouth with yours—and we consent      to moving out of context, this knowledge passing between us, sweet as a garden unlocked overnight. Later on in a forest, we come across trees uprooted by storms, their vast proclamations overgrown by calm.      Then it seems the roof of the world extends forever, the distance drawn up from a well we've looked in, simply following the convoluted syntax lovers know      by heart, like a poem that takes you somewhere you've been, but haven't been before.

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Question and Answer

By Barbara Jordan

In this place where we reside by touch, you narrow against me, brush my mouth with yours—and we consent      to moving out of context, this knowledge passing between us, sweet […]

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