Color floods to the spot, dull purple.
The rest of the body is all washed-out,
The color of pearl.

In a pit of a rock
The sea sucks obsessively,
One hollow thw whole sea's pivot.

The size of a fly,
The doom mark
Crawls down the wall.

The heart shuts,
The sea slides back,
The mirrors are sheeted.

by Sylvia Plath

Comments (1)

This is brilliant... and to think, she's considered a classic poet, and I actually like her work! That's fairly rare for me, I prefer the more modern poetry usually. I love this poem....