"The tulips are too red in the first place, they hurt me" Sylvia Plath
Red is a restless diva
pacing in the wings,
making an entrance
as the carmine tulips
of a get-well bouquet.
Red is a strumpet
blaspheming the temple
where caring hands
smooth pristine
beach-white bedclothes.
Red is a snooper
********** her body's
fresh wound, wearing
her flowering heart
as a throbbing corsage.
Jul 27, 2016
Jul 27, 2016 at 7:01 AM UTC
"The tulips are too red in the first place, they hurt me" Sylvia Plath
Red is a restless diva
pacing in the wings,
making an entrance
as the carmine tulips
of a get-well bouquet.
Red is a strumpet
blaspheming the temple
where caring hands
smooth pristine
beach-white bedclothes.
Red is a snooper
********** her body's
fresh wound, wearing
her flowering heart
as a throbbing corsage.
Not a new poem but recently edited for the umpteenth time.
