Found Poetry 866

12/23/21

I'll never face this wall
I just want to spar
turn out the light
and I'll turn it back on

edges grow for tomorrow
the intensity of the morning dew undone
the dog has leaves in its stomach
my shaking fist can flinch the sun

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

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