Saturday, 18 May 2019

Ariel BY Sylvia Plath

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 furrow

Splits and passes, sister to   
The brown arc
Of the neck I cannot catch,

Nigger-eye   
Berries cast dark   
Hooks-

Black sweet blood mouthfuls,   
Shadows.
Something else

Hauls me through air-
Thighs, hair;
Flakes from my heels.

White
Godiva, 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.


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