T W E L V E

notes in an octave; in one dozen; months of the year

Metaphors - Sylvia Plath


I’m a riddle in nine syllables.
An elephant, a ponderous house,
A melon strolling on two tendrils.
O red fruit, ivory, fine timbers!
This loaf’s big with its yeasty rising.
Money’s new-minted in this fat purse.
I’m a means, a stage, a cow in calf.
I’ve eaten a bag of green apples,
Boarded the train there’s no getting off.

  1. skankk reblogged this from apunch
  2. tashafaye reblogged this from fuckyeahsylviaplath
  3. bantamkelly reblogged this from fuckyeahsylviaplath
  4. alliencat reblogged this from fuckyeahsylviaplath
  5. comfortableonsundays reblogged this from fuckyeahsylviaplath
  6. apunch reblogged this from fuckyeahsylviaplath
  7. seganandtara reblogged this from fuckyeahsylviaplath
  8. polkakadot reblogged this from fuckyeahsylviaplath
  9. fuckyeahsylviaplath reblogged this from jubilantly
  10. jubilantly posted this