1 min read
Слушать(AI)The Fury Of Sunsets
Something cold is in the air, an aura of ice and phlegm.
All day I've built a lifetime and now the sun sinks to undo it.
The horizon bleeds and sucks its thumb.
The little red thumb goes out of sight.
And I wonder about this lifetime with myself, this dream I'm living.
I could eat the sky like an apple but I'd rather ask the first star: why am I here? why do I live in this house? who's responsible? eh?
Anne Sexton
Anne Sexton (November 9, 1928 – October 4, 1974) was an American poet known for her highly personal, confessional verse. She won the Pulitzer Pr
Comments
You need to be signed in to write comments
Other author posts
Rapunzel
A woman who loves a woman is forever young The mentor and the student feed off each other Many a girl had an old aunt who locked her in the study to keep the boys away They would play rummy or lie on the couch and touch and touch
Housewife
Some women marry houses It's another kind of skin; it has a heart, a mouth, a liver and bowel movements The walls are permanent and pink See how she sits on her knees all day, faithfully washing herself down
The Nude Swim
On the southwest side of Capriwe found a little unknown grottowhere no people were and weentered it completelyand let our bodies lose alltheir loneliness All the fish in ushad escaped for a minute The real fish did not mind We did n...
Courage
It is in the small things we see it The child's first step,as awesome as an earthquake The first time you rode a bike,wallowing up the sidewalk The first spanking when your heartwent on a journey all alone
