the slime of all my yesterdays <br />rots in the hollow of my skull <br /> <br />and if my stomach would contract <br />because of some explicable phenomenon <br />such as pregnancy or constipation <br /> <br />I would not remember you <br /> <br />or that because of sleep <br />infrequent as a moon of greencheese <br />that because of food <br />nourishing as violet leaves <br />that because of these <br /> <br />and in a few fatal yards of grass <br />in a few spaces of sky and treetops <br /> <br />a future was lost yesterday <br />as easily and irretrievably <br />as a tennis ball at twilight<br /><br />Sylvia Plath<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/april-18/
