Double Exposure

I will wake up with no memory of you.

We were drawn to one another
Like Sylvia and the Bell Jar.

We sealed ourselves off like ships in a bottle,
Succumbed to the fine, white oblivion.

Like whirling myths of obsolete lovers,
True to our own weirdnesses,
We sailed oceans internally.

We counted dead stars,
And those half-living.

Yet anxieties stayed,
Amidst plum-coloured flames.

Irrational compulsions returned.

Gripped our hearts,
Like talons clenched too tightly.

The bees we kept went on ignoring us,
Like tiny gods not listening
For the scrape of our most desperate prayer.

We talked death,
We talked the opposite.

We never talked of rebirth.

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I did my Masters thesis on Plath and Sexton....I am sure Sylvia would have smiled at this poem...
you felt her here...drastically...fully...
nicely done.
j.