“Beached under the spumy blooms, we lieSea-sick and fever-dry.--from "Withsun", written 14 February 1961”
Sylvia Plath
The Collected Poems
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“And I am aware of my heart: it opens and closesIts bowl of red blooms out of sheer love of me.--from "Tulips", written 18 March 1961”
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