Sylvia Plath on death and desire

I’m sunk in Sylvia Plath right now. It’s dangerous. Look:   These lines, here:   Something else Hauls me through air— Thighs, hair; Flakes from my heels. White Godiva, I unpeel— Dead hands, dead stringencies.   make me come apart,

/ Curl My Toes (who said that?)

Sylvia Plath on death and desire

I’m sunk in Sylvia Plath right now. It’s dangerous. Look:   These lines, here:   Something else Hauls me through air— Thighs, hair; Flakes from my heels. White Godiva, I unpeel— Dead hands, dead stringencies.   make me come apart,

/ November 6, 2015 / Leave a comment