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Eavesdropper
por
Sylvia Plath
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Your brother will trim my hedges! They darken your house, Nosy grower, Mole on my shoulder, To be scratched absently, To bleed, if it comes to that. The stain of the tropics Still urinous on you, a sin. A kind of bush-stink. You may be local, But that yellow! Godawful! Your body one Long nicotine-finger On which I, White cigarette, Burn, for your inhalation, Driving the dull cells wild. Let me roost in you! My distractions, my pallors. Let them start the queer alchemy That melts the skin Gray tallow, from bone and bone. So I saw your much sicker Predecessor wrapped up, A six and a half foot wedding-cake. And he was not even malicious. Do not think I don't notice your curtain— Midnight, four o'clock, Lit (you are reading), Tarting with the drafts that pass, Little whore tongue, Chenille beckoner, Beckoning my words in— The zoo yowl, the mad soft Mirror talk you love to catch me at. How you jumped when I jumped on you! Arms folded, ear c*cked, Toad-yellow under the drop That would not, would not drop In a desert of cow people Trundling their udders home To the electric milker, the wifey, the big blue eye That watches, like God, or the sky The ciphers that watch it. I called. You crawled out, A weather figure, boggling, Belge troll, the low Church smile Spreading itself, like butter. This is what I am in for— Flea body! Eyes like mice Flicking over my property, Levering letter flaps, Scrutinizing the fly Of the man's pants Dead on the chair back, Opening the fat smiles, the eyes Of two babies Just to make sure— Toad-stone! Sister-b*tch! Sweet neighbor!
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