Oct 2015
She contemplated death
as coolly as the opening of
a lotus.
Its light spread on
her mad-locked smile
drained
of his mournful red,
like unfinished smears
of butter on toast.
as coolly as the opening of
a lotus.
Its light spread on
her mad-locked smile
drained
of his mournful red,
like unfinished smears
of butter on toast.
Recently watched Sylvia Plath's biopic.
