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The little girl skipped by under the wrinkled oak leaves and held fast to a replica of herself.

Anne Sexton

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Anne Sexton
Age: 45 †
Born: 1928
Born: November 9
Died: 1974
Died: October 4
Poet
Writer
Newton
Massachusetts
Anne Gray Harvey
Leaves
Held
Fast
Girl
Littles
Skipped
Little
Replica
Wrinkled
Oaks

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you see, we live in a cold climate and are not permitted to kiss on the street so I made up a song that wasn't true. I made up a song called Marriage.
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When the cow gives blood and the Christ is born we must all eat sacrifices. We must all eat beautiful women.
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It is in the small things we see it. The child's first step, as awesome as an earthquake. The first time you rode a bike, wallowing up the sidewalk.
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I burn the way money burns.
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I'm an empress. I wear an apron. My typewriter writes. It didn't break the way it warned. Even crazy, I'm as nice as a chocolate bar.
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we do not explain my husband's insane abuse and we do not say why your wild-haired wife has fled or that my father opened like a walnut and then was dead. Your palms fold over me like knees. Love is the only use.
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Well, one gets out of bed and the planets don't always hiss or muck up the day, each day.
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I love the word warm. It is almost unbearable-- so moist and breathlike.
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I like you your eyes are full of language. [Letter to Anne Clarke, July 3, 1964.]
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Poor thing. To die and never see Brooklyn.
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Though rain curses the window let the poem be made.
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Today God gives milk / and I have the pail.
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It was as if a morning-glory had bloomed in her throat, and all that blue and small pollen ate into my heart, violent and religious
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No one to hate except the slim fish of memory that slides in and out of my brain.
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All I wanted was a little piece of life, to be married, to have children.... I was trying my damnedest to lead a conventional life, for that was how I was brought up, and it was what my husband wanted of me. But one can't build little white picket fences to keep the nightmares out.
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Man is a bird full of mud, I say aloud. And death looks on with a casual eye and scratches his anus.
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Fee-fi-fo-fum - Now I'm borrowed. Now I'm numb.
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Let there be a heaven so that man may outlive his grasses.
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My sleeping pill is white. It is a splendid pearl it floats me out of myself, my stung skin as alien as a loose bolt of cloth.
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Thief!- how did you crawl into, crawl down alone into the death I wanted so badly and for so long.
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