"Darling, all night
I have been flickering, off, on, off, on.
The sheets grow heavy as a lecher's kiss.


Three days. Three nights.
Lemon water, chicken
Water, water make me retch.


I am too pure for you or anyone.
Your body
Hurts me as the world hurts God. I am a lantern ----


My head a moon
Of Japanese paper, my gold beaten skin
Infinitely delicate and infinitely expensive.


Does not my heat astound you. And my light.
All by myself I am a huge camellia
Glowing and coming and going, flush on flush.


I think I am going up,
I think I may rise ----"

I have been inside watching the rain and bad tv for most of the weekend, with a cold that began on Friday 13th... coupled with a few other things, this has led me to act a little more irrationally than usual.  Listening to Laura Marling on repeat can only be adding to my state of delirium.

It's Monday tomorrow and back to normality, so let's hope it passes by then.

image via Bardot Witches?  Extract from Fever 103 by Sylvia Plath

words by Sylvia Plath, via Ink Stains and Bruises, image via Tumblr

quote from Sylvia Plath, image via Onwards/Upwards

Sun Stroke

"Stretching out on the rock, body taught,then relaxed, on the altar, I felt that I was being raped deliciously by the sun, filled full of heat from the impersonal and colossal god of nature.

High, bonewhite, I had been washed by the sea, cleansed, baptised, purified, and dried clean and crisp by the sun. Like seaweed, brittle, sharp, strong-smelling- like stone,rounded, curved, oval,clean- like wind, pungent, salty- like all these was the body of my love. An orgiastic sacrifice on the altar of rock and sun,and I arose shining from centuries of love,clean and satiated fro mthe consuming fire of his casual and timeless desire."

"A wind, salty and moist, blew damply in my hair; through a great glinting mass of it I could see the blue twinkle of the ocean. The sun seeped into every pore, satiating every querulous fiber of me into a great glowing golden peace."

pictures from weheartit, flickr, third picture by Jason Lee Parry via Knight Cat.  Extract from 'The Journals of Sylvia Plath 1950-1962'(Faber 2001) from her summer in Massachusetts, 1951.