wandering star: Lady Lazarus by Sylvia Plath
I have done it again.
One year in every ten
I manage it——-
A sort of walking miracle, my skin
Bright as a Nazi lampshade,
My right foot
A paperweight,
My featureless, fine
Jew linen.
Peel off the napkin
O my enemy.
Do I terrify?———-
The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth?
…
