By Alicia Suskin Ostriker
I am not lyric any more
I will not play the harp
for your pleasure
I will not make a joyful
noise to you, neither
will I lament
for I know you drink
lamentation, too,
like wine
so I dully repeat
you hurt me
I hate you
I pull my eyes away from the hills
I will not kill for you
I will never love you again
unless you ask me
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