You said the anger would come back <br />just as the love did. <br /> <br />I have a black look I do not <br />like. It is a mask I try on. <br />I migrate toward it and its frog <br />sits on my lips and defecates. <br />It is old. It is also a pauper. <br />I have tried to keep it on a diet. <br />I give it no unction. <br /> <br />There is a good look that I wear <br />like a blood clot. I have <br />sewn it over my left breast. <br />I have made a vocation of it. <br />Lust has taken plant in it <br />and I have placed you and your <br />child at its milk tip. <br /> <br />Oh the blackness is murderous <br />and the milk tip is brimming <br />and each machine is working <br />and I will kiss you when <br />I cut up one dozen new men <br />and you will die somewhat, <br />again and again.<br /><br />Anne Sexton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/again-and-again-and-again/
