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  • Princess of the Pills
  • Jake Bailey

  After Wallace Stevens’s “Infanta Marina”

Her terrace was the groundsAnd the pines and the florescence.

She made the scars on her wristThe stagnant symbolsOf what is to come.

The crumpling of the pagesOf this angel of the morningCame to be the messages of mindOver the chasm.

And thus she carvedIn the roamings of the scythe,

Partaking of the chasm,And of the morning,The crimson flowed aroundAnd mumbled its wordless reprieve. [End Page 287]

Jake Bailey
Aurora, Illinois
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