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Found Poetry 168


tigers: dissolved
bluebird heads: mounted
owls: skulls in air
now just passengers in a darkroom
they clawed and attacked
we just grinned and scraped
like cleaning upholstery
fingering our beards
their bones are so great
a surplus of breasts from the blood of years

This poem was created from Sylvia Plath's collected works. Click here to get a book of Plath's poems.

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