A Villanelle for Sylvia Plath

You shut your eyes but your the one who's dead
Did serpents poisen fang entice your kiss
Such arbitrary blackness in your head

A poisened apple found beside your bed
(Delivered with yon serpents wicked hiss?)
You shut your eyes but your the one who's dead


The sting of angry bees your father bred
(I bet he never dreamed you'd die like this)
Such arbitrary blackness in your head

Cold Lilys mark the path on which you tred
The fires of hell to light your path to bliss
You shut your eyes but your the one who's dead

The clothes you wore in death all tinted red
A color even thunderbirds can't miss
Such arbitrary blackness in your head

Such misery I hope at last you shed
Bewitched by death to end such lonliness
You shut your eyes but your the one who's dead
Such arbitrary blackness in your head


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