I am inhabited by a cry.
Nightly it flaps out
Looking, with its hooks, for something to love.
I am terrified by this dark thing
That sleeps in me;
All day I feel its soft, feathery turnings, its malignity.
Clouds pass and disperse.
Are those the faces of love, those pale irretrievables?
Is it for such I agitate my heart?
Euphoria by Elin Cullhed review – inside the mind of Sylvia Plath | Fiction | The Guardian
https://www.theguardian.com/books/2022/dec/15/euphoria-by-elin-cullhed-review-inside-the-mind-of-sylvia-plath