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guy scutellaro
Poems
Sep 17
Sylvia Plath
the slow slide
down from the stars above. love,
it leaves so fast,
grows so quickly cold.
she had looked into the shark's dead eyes
and found the friend
that waits in silent shadows
that draw the dying
inside themselves and into
the lone, solitary ring
of the cold church bells song.
Sylvia stared with dead eyes
and rode the white horse of death into the fire.
Written by
guy scutellaro
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