I have a self to recover, a queen.
Is she dead, is she sleeping?
Where has she been,
with her lion-red body,
her wings of glass?

—	Sylvia Plath

OOOphh!!

I am helpless as the sea
at the end of her string.
I am restless.
Restless and useless.
I, too, create corpses.

—	Sylvia Plath, from Three Women

Charissa's Grace Notes