Ah, Sylvia, Sylvia

You made the mistake

Of falling

For a fellow poet


Felt so good

At first


Feeling fine

Flying high


Two egos



What fun

But then

Time to face the future

Forget each other

Or forage on to the next step

You chose the continuation option

Marriage, children

No option

For children of the fifties

Except all or nothing

You chose all


But as the years mounted

And your best work produced

Nothing felt good

He was still flying

Tossing his laurel leaves

Like a boomerang

At the women

Who flung themselves

Against his soaring arrogance

Did you become

A refurbished virgin

That only the deep breaths

Of oven fumes

Could arrest

When family



Was no longer enough


Sylvia, I feel it too…


© 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)

IMAGE: Sylvia Plath


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