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Ghosts

Some ghosts are women,neither abstract nor pale,their breasts as limp as killed fish.

Not witches, but ghostswho come, moving their useless armslike forsaken servants.

Not all ghosts are women,

I have seen others;fat, white-bellied men,wearing their genitals like old rags.

Not devils, but ghosts.

This one thumps barefoot, lurchingabove my bed.

But that isn't all.

Some ghosts are children.

Not angels, but ghosts;curling like pink tea cupson any pillow, or kicking,showing their innocent bottoms, wailingfor Lucifer.

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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…

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