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To die whole, riddled with nothing but desire for it, is like breakfast after love.

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
Like
Breakfast
Longing
Satisfaction
Dies
Desire
Nothing
Whole
Love
Riddled

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Nature is full of teeth that come in one by one, then decay, fall out.
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I'll Vacuum up my stale hair, I'll pay all my neighbors' bad debts, I'll write a poem called Yellow and put my lips down to drink it up.
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We talked death with burned-up intensity, both of us drawn to it like moths to an electric light bulb. Sucking on it!
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The soul was not cured, it was as full as a clothes closet of dresses that did not fit.
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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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