Sleeping Beauty, again
for Anne Sexton
How to kill yourself this time
You kept wondering in your Thorazine haze
Now after fifty years my once professoressa
I am still afraid to write this
You were my sad mother too
Same age as Mom
While you were remaking Grimm
Mom toured China’s bright new communisms
But I did want to put my hand there
Your small shapely breasts like my mother’s
Your thin hairless thighs
And we could have
Though you didn’t like my poems
And I wasn’t sure about yours
Mom smoked one Kent
Each week lipstick circles and you
Smoking more and more
Long fingers slender around the cigarettes
Still it was you I adopted
Though you had little interest
Pondering Sleeping Beauty again
For another hundred years
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