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An Appearance

The smile of iceboxes annihilates me.

Such blue currents in the veins of my loved one!

I hear her great heart purr.

 

From her lips ampersands and percent signs

Exit like kisses.

It is Monday in her mind: morals

 

Launder and present themselves.

What am I to make of these contradictions?

I wear white cuffs, I bow.

 

Is this love then, this red material

Issuing from the steele needle that flies so blindingly?

It will make little dresses and coats,

 

It will cover a dynasty.

How her body opens and shuts --

A Swiss watch, jeweled in the hinges!

 

O heart, such disorganization!

The stars are flashing like terrible numerals.

ABC, her eyelids say.

Written by
Sylvia Plath
1932-1963 / Female / American
Lines·Words
18·114
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