Stasis in darkness.
Then the substanceless blue
Pour of tor and distances.God's lioness,How one we grow,
Pivot of heels and knees! --
The furrowSplits and passes, sister to
The brown arc
Of the neck
I cannot catch,
Nigger-eye
Berries cast darkHooks --
Black sweet blood mouthfuls,
Shadows.Something else
Hauls methrough air --
Thighs, hair;
Flakes from my heels.
WhiteGodiva, I unpeel --
Dead hands, dead stringencies.
And now I
Foam to wheat, a glitter of seas.
The child's cry
Melts in the wall.And I
Am the arrow,
The dew that flies
Suicidal,
at one with the drive
Into the red...
Eye, the cauldron of morning.
~ Sylvia Plath
