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The town is silent. The night boils with eleven stars. Oh starry starry night! This is how I want to die.
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
Night
Starry
Boils
Eleven
Town
Towns
Silent
Stars
Dies
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I tell you what you’ll never really know: all the medical hypothesis that explained my brain will never be as true as these struck leaves letting go.
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And thus Snow White became the prince's bride. The wicked queen was invited to the wedding feast and when she arrived there were red-hot iron shoes, in the manner of red-hot roller skates, clamped upon her feet.
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Put your ear down close to your soul and listen hard.
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I see myself as one would see another. I have been cut in two.
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Sometimes the soul takes pictures of things it has wished for, but never seen.
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Oh thumb, I want a drink it is dark, where are the big people, when will I get there...?
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I who was a house full of bowel movement, I who was a defaced altar, I who wanted to crawl toward God could not move nor eat bread.
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I was spread out dailyand examined for flaws.
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Everyone in me is a bird I am beating all my wings
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Images are the heart of poetry ... You're not a poet without imagery.
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We are all writing God's poem.
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Frog has no nerves. Frog is as old as a cockroach. Frog is my father's genitals. Frog is a malformed doorknob. Frog is a soft bag of green.
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She is so naked and singular. She is the sum of yourself and your dream. Climb her like a monument, step after step. She is solid.
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The family story tells, and it was told true, of my great-grandfather who begat eight genius children and bought twelve almost new grand pianos. He left a considerable estate when he died.
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To die whole, riddled with nothing but desire for it, is like breakfast after love.
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You lay, a small knuckle on my white bed lay, that fist like a snail, small and strong at my breast. Your lips are animals you are fed with love. At first, hunger is not wrong.
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Watch out for love (unless it is true, and every part of you says yes including the toes), it will wrap you up like a mummy, and your scream won't be heard and none of your running will run.
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There is rust in my mouth,the stain of an old kiss.
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