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Here are two pupils
whose moons of black
transform to cripples
all who look:
each lovely lady
who peers inside
take on the body
of a toad.
Within these mirrors
the world inverts:
the fond admirer's
burning darts
turn back to injure
the thrusting hand
and inflame to danger
the scarlet wound.
I sought my image
in the scorching glass,
for what fire could damage
a witch's face?
So I stared in that furnace
where beauties char
but found radiant Venus
reflected there.
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Sylvia Plath Poetry
PoesiaSylvia Plath Poetry is a book filled with the content of Sylvia Plath's poems. Sylvia Plath was an American poet, novelist, and short story writer. Plath's work often was singled out for the intense coupling of its violent or disturbed imagery and...
