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I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions. Whatever I see I swallow immediately Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike. I am not cruel, only truthful - The eye of a little god, four-cornered. Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall. It is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it so long I think it is a part of my heart. But it flickers. Faces and darkness separate us over and over. Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me, Searching my reaches for what she really is. Then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon. I see her back, and reflect it faithfully. She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands. I am important to her. She comes and goes. Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness. In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish.
MIRROR
-Sylvia Plath
riencuran added this comment 2008-02-21 00:35:02-06:00
we had to analyze this in ap lit....i love plath, but it made me appreciate this poem more in particular =] love it even more now
riencuran added this comment 2008-02-21 00:35:02-06:00
we had to analyze this in ap lit....i love plath, but it made me appreciate this poem more in particular =] love it even more now