Sylvia Plath

Thalidomide

O half moon--- Half-brain, luminosity--- Negro, masked like a white, Your dark Amputations crawl and appall--- Spidery, unsafe. What glove What leatheriness Has protected Me from that shadow--- The indelible buds. Knuckles at shoulder-blades, the Faces that Shove into being, dragging The lopped Blood-caul of absences. All night I carpenter A space for the thing I am given, A love Of two wet eyes and a screech. White spit Of indifference! The dark fruits revolve and fall. The glass cracks across, The image Flees and aborts like dropped mercury.

default user
Comment Section just now

Feel free to be first to leave comment.

8/2200 - 0