What can I do with this memory? Shake the bones out of it? — Anne Sexton, from “Waking Alone,” The Complete Poems of Anne Sexton (Houghton Mifflin, 1981) Advertisements
Your dream moves summers inside my mind. — Anne Sexton, from “For Johnny Pole On The Forgotten Beach,” The Complete Poems (Houghton Mifflin, 1981)
It is June. I am tired of being brave. — Anne Sexton, from “The Truth The Dead Know,” The Complete Poems. (Mariner Books; 1st edition April 28, 1999) Originally published September 30th 1981.
Come, my beloved, consider the lilies. We are of little faith. We talk too much. Put your mouthful of words away and come with me to watch the lilies open in such a field, growing there like yachts, slowly steering their petals without nurses or clocks. Let us consider the view: a house where white… Continue reading Anne Sexton
Talk to me about sadness. I talk about it too much in my own head but I never mind others talking about it either; I occasionally feel like I tremendously need others to talk about it as well. — Anne Sexton, Anne Sexton: A Self-Portrait in Letters. (Mariner Books, October 1, 2004) Originally published January… Continue reading Anne Sexton
I am younger each year at the first snow. When I see it, suddenly, in the air, all little and white and moving; then I am in love again and very young and I believe everything. ― Anne Sexton in a letter to W.D. Snodgrass (November 28, 1958), Anne Sexton: A Self-Portrait in Letters. (Mariner… Continue reading Anne Sexton
And tonight our skins, our bones, … will meet, delicate in the hold, fastened together in an intricate lock. Then one of us will shout, ‘My need is more desperate!’ and I will eat you slowly with kisses even though the killer in you has gotten out. — Anne Sexton, from “Loving the Killer,” Selected… Continue reading Anne Sexton