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  A Man in my Bed like Cracker Crumbs
  Sandra Cisneros
   
  I've stripped the bed.
  Shaken the sheets and slumped
  those fat pillows like tired tongues
  out the window for air and sun
  to get to.  I've let
   
  the mattress lounge in
  its blue-striped dressing gown.
  I've punched and fluffed.
  All morning.  I've billowed and snapped.
  Said my prayers to la Virgen de la Soledad.
  And now I can sit down
  to my typewriter and cup
  because she's answered me.
   
  Coffee's good.
  Dust motes somersault and spin.
  House clean.
  I'm alone again.
  Amen.
   
   

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