Soliloquy Of The Solipsist
I?
I walk alone;
The midnight
Spins itself from under my feet;
When my eyes
These dreaming houses all snuff out;
Through a whim of
Over gables the moon's celestial
Hangs high.
Make houses
And trees
By going far; my look's
Dangles the
Who, unaware how they dwindle,
Laugh, kiss, get drunk,
Nor guess that if I choose to
They die.
When in good humor,
Give grass its
Blazon sky blue, and endow the
With gold;
Yet, in my wintriest moods,
I
Absolute
To boycott any color and forbid any
To be.
Know you
Vivid at my side,
Denying you sprang out of my head,
Claiming you
Love fiery enough to prove flesh real,
Though it's quite
All you beauty, all your wit, is a gift, my dear,
From me.
Sylvia Plath
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