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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.

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Sylvia Plath

Sylvia Plath (October 27, 1932 – February 11, 1963) was an American poet, novelist, and short-story writer.

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