Edna St. Vincent Millay, from “Afternoon on a Hill,” Collected Poems
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— Anna Akhmatova, The Guest
[text ID: "What do you want?" I asked. / "To be with you in hell," he said.]
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Sylvia Plath, Collected Poems; from 'Three Women'
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Edna St. Vincent Millay, from "Three Songs of Shattering", Collected Poems
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You were frightened by our first meeting,
but I already prayed for the second, and now
the evening is hot, the way it was then . . .
Anna Akhmatova, from “You were frightened by our first meeting″ originally in Plantain, transl. Jane Kenyon with Vera Sandomirsky Dunham, Collected Poems of Jane Kenyon (Graywolf Press, 2005)
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(...) we met again, to unsay
unbearable farewells, to see
our eyes brighten with re-strung tears.
Carol Ann Duffy, from Premonitions in “Collected Poems”
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Mina Loy, from The Collected Poems of Mina Loy, “Three Moments in Paris.”
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- haley green, mine feverish gentleness
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C. P. Cavafy // poems (1905-1915)
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'Unfortunate Coincidence' From The Collected Poems by Dorothy Parker.
[ID: Unfortunate Coincidences by Dorothy Parker:
By the time you swear you're his,
Shivering and sighing,
And he vows his passion is
Infinite, undying-
Lady make a note of this:
One of you is lying.]
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George Seferis, Collected Poems (trans. Philip Sherrard)
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i feel your / mouth on my / thighs immac / ulate tongue.
— Sonia Sanchez, "Sonku,” Collected Poems
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1. Claude Monet, Snow Scene at Argenteuil (1875) // 2. Sylvia Plath, Dialogue Over A Ouija Board: A Verse Dialogue, from Collected Poems // 3. Louise Glück, from Winter Recipes from the Collective: Poems // 4. Francis Jammes, tr by Jethro Bithell, from “It Is Going to Snow,” wr. c. 1910 // 5. Natalie Diaz, “Manhattan Is a Lenape Word.” Postcolonial Love Poem // 6. Sarah Kay, from “Winter Without You”, No Matter the Wreckage // 7. John Geddes, A Familiar Rain // 8. Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Come, come thou bleak December wind // 9. Joseph D. Herron, December
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The incalculable malice of the everyday.
Sylvia Plath, Collected Poems; from 'Three Women'
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—From The Collected Poems of Emily Dickinson: Book 3: Nature
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For he would be thinking of love
Till the stars had run away
And the shadows eaten the moon.
William Butler Yeats, from “Brown Penny,” The Collected Poems of W. B. Yeats (Scribner, 1996)
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(...) and the ghost took her heart.
Carol Ann Duffy, from Girl Talking in “Collected Poems”
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