and sometimes, there are goats.
You defy other godhood.
I walk dry on your kingdom’s border
Exiled to no good.

Your shelled bed I remember.
Father, this thick air is murderous.
I would breathe water.
Sylvia Plath, “Full Fathom Five,” from The Colossus: And Other Poems (via lifeinpoetry)

betweenbodies:

ive never believed in passive aggressive vagueblogging, unlike SOME people i could mention



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