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Found Poetry 890
the red sound of sirens cherry blood on a stone these seconds drip out blood screaming in the dirt a rusty hinge on the ground cinder blood in the belly valves and drains open salt in the blood shipwrecked the ceiling of the sky sags red fists shake like flames the reach is not pleasant an arctic pain we brace for the wind red, again
This poem was created from Sylvia Plath's collected works. Click here to get a book of Plath's poems.
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