by Kim Robinson

Created on: September 11, 2007

Sylvia Plath
(The blood jet is poetry and there is no stopping it-Sylvia Plath)

I've loved you my whole life,
Your misconceptions and contradictions,
Your obsessions and allegations about
Life and death and poetry. I loved the way
You bit Ted Hughes on the cheek and
The blood spilled down his beautiful,
Chiseled face like a metaphor for your future.
I loved the way your words made me feel at
Fourteen, Fifteen, fortyas if it were normal
To glue one's mind and body back together again
Like a broken piece of china or an unfinished poem.

I've loved you my whole life,
Your voids and vowels, your
Hooks and howls. I loved when
You ate men like air and allowed
The emerald grasses to unload their griefs
Beneath your feet as if you were some
Kind of god. I loved your succulent, savage tongue overflowing
Its venom into the world while the potatoes
Hissed on your stainless steel stove,
And you walked cold linoleum floors
In your cow heavy Victorian nightgown.

I've loved you through marriages,
Conceptions, separations, depressions,
And dead verses. I've held you close
And continually ran my fingers through
Your dishwater blonde hair numerous
Nights. I've loved you my entire life,
Not because I desired to be you-but because
I am you

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