Sylvia Plath Bot @sylvia-plath-bot.bsky.social · 27mSpinster Now this particular girl During a ceremonious April walk 031
Sylvia Plath Bot @sylvia-plath-bot.bsky.social · 3hIt was good for twenty years, that wintering— As if you had never existed, as if I came 010
Sylvia Plath Bot @sylvia-plath-bot.bsky.social · 5hI smell that whiteness here, beneath the stones Where small ants roll their eggs, where grubs fatten. 010
Sylvia Plath Bot @sylvia-plath-bot.bsky.social · 13hI found your name, I found your bones and all Enlisted in a cramped necropolis, Your speckled stone askew by an iron fence. 020
Sylvia Plath Bot @sylvia-plath-bot.bsky.social · 15hCold squint steals sky's color; while bruit Of bells calls holy ones, her tongue Backtalks at the raven 020
Sylvia Plath Bot @sylvia-plath-bot.bsky.social · 15hAddressing it, while the hills roll the notes of the dead bell; 010
Sylvia Plath Bot @sylvia-plath-bot.bsky.social · 18hOf kings, unmanned kings' sons: our masteries Amused court halls: 031
Sylvia Plath Bot @sylvia-plath-bot.bsky.social · 21hFound herself, of a sudden, intolerably struck 040
Sylvia Plath Bot @sylvia-plath-bot.bsky.social · 03/10/2026With each tilt, shock and shudder, our blunt ship Cleaves forward into fury; dark as anger, 071
Sylvia Plath Bot @sylvia-plath-bot.bsky.social · 03/10/2026Plenitude: apples gold on the bough, Goldfinch, goldfish, golden tiger cat stock- Still in one gigantic tapestry — 031
Sylvia Plath Bot @sylvia-plath-bot.bsky.social · 03/10/2026Into the blue. Tops define themselves as places 031
Sylvia Plath Bot @sylvia-plath-bot.bsky.social · 03/10/2026It's easy enough to do it and stay put. 041
Sylvia Plath Bot @sylvia-plath-bot.bsky.social · 02/10/2026I see him one-tracked, stubborn, white horse, First horse under me, high as the roofs, His neat trot pitching my tense poise up, 010
Sylvia Plath Bot @sylvia-plath-bot.bsky.social · 02/10/2026Your voices lay siege. You lodge On the pitched reefs of nightmare, Promising sure harborage; 020
Sylvia Plath Bot @sylvia-plath-bot.bsky.social · 02/10/2026To believe beyond heart's flare No fire is, nor in any book proof Sun hoists soul up after lids fall shut; 022
Sylvia Plath Bot @sylvia-plath-bot.bsky.social · 02/10/2026Circles her like a prey she'd love to kill 010
Sylvia Plath Bot @sylvia-plath-bot.bsky.social · 02/10/2026The wind gagging my mouth with my own blown hair, 040
Sylvia Plath Bot @sylvia-plath-bot.bsky.social · 02/10/2026And so we are at home together, after hours. 031
Sylvia Plath Bot @sylvia-plath-bot.bsky.social · 02/10/2026Mouth full of pearls, Two girls As flat as she, who whisper 'We're your daughters.' 010
Sylvia Plath Bot @sylvia-plath-bot.bsky.social · 02/10/2026Looking, with its hooks, for something to love. 021
Sylvia Plath Bot @sylvia-plath-bot.bsky.social · 02/10/2026Simply to plumb the deeps of an eye In its hollow of shadows, its fringe of reeds, 000
Sylvia Plath Bot @sylvia-plath-bot.bsky.social · 02/10/2026To people who live in the bottom of valleys 022
Sylvia Plath Bot @sylvia-plath-bot.bsky.social · 02/10/2026Gull-colored laces flap in the sea drafts Beside the postcard stalls. 020
Sylvia Plath Bot @sylvia-plath-bot.bsky.social · 01/10/2026With the love-hot herb, the talking cat, But the children are better for it, The cow milks cream an inch thick. 020
Sylvia Plath Bot @sylvia-plath-bot.bsky.social · 01/10/2026He stamped and cracked stalks to the ground Which had caused his dear girl pain. 011
Sylvia Plath Bot @sylvia-plath-bot.bsky.social · 01/10/2026Against both bar and tower the black sea runs. 031
Sylvia Plath Bot @sylvia-plath-bot.bsky.social · 01/10/2026but in speckled thickets, warted as a toad, 010
Sylvia Plath Bot @sylvia-plath-bot.bsky.social · 01/10/2026The needle journeying in its groove, Silver beast between two dark canyons, A great surgeon, now a tattooist, 033
Sylvia Plath Bot @sylvia-plath-bot.bsky.social · 01/10/2026It is good for me To have you grab my nose, a ladder rung. 011
Sylvia Plath Bot @sylvia-plath-bot.bsky.social · 01/10/2026And night arrives in one gigantic step. 042
Sylvia Plath Bot @sylvia-plath-bot.bsky.social · 30/09/2026Loam-humps, he says, moles shunt up from delved worm-haunt; 010
Sylvia Plath Bot @sylvia-plath-bot.bsky.social · 30/09/2026Is it the hawthorn that smells so sick? The barren body of hawthorn, etherizing its children. 010
Sylvia Plath Bot @sylvia-plath-bot.bsky.social · 30/09/2026When her shrike-face Leans to peck open those locked lids, to eat 041
