<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=345423" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Oh</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">It is snowing and death bugs me<br>as stubborn as insomnia.<br>The fierce bubbles of chalk,<br>the little white lesions<br>settle on the street outside.<br>It is snowing and the ninety<br>year old woman who was combing<br>out her long white wraith hair<br>is gone, embalmed even now,<br>even tonight her arms are smooth<br>muskets at her side and nothing<br>issues from her but her last word - 'Oh.' Surprised by death.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It is snowing. Paper spots<br>are falling from the punch.<br>Hello? Mrs. Death is here!<br>She suffers according to the digits<br>of my hate. I hear the filaments<br>of alabaster. I would lie down<br>with them and lift my madness<br>off like a wig. I would lie<br>outside in a room of wool<br>and let the snow cover me.<br>Paris white or flake white<br>or argentine, all in the washbasin<br>of my mouth, calling, 'Oh.'<br>I am empty. I am witless.<br>Death is here. There is no<br>other settlement. Snow!<br>See the mark, the pock, the pock!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Meanwhile you pour tea<br>with your handsome gentle hands.<br>Then you deliberately take your<br>forefinger and point it at my temple,<br>saying, 'You suicide bitch!<br>I'd like to take a corkscrew<br>and screw out all your brains<br>and you'd never be back ever.'<br>And I close my eyes over the steaming<br>tea and see God opening His teeth.<br>'Oh.' He says.<br>I see the child in me writing, 'Oh.'<br>Oh, my dear, not why.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Anne+Sexton">Anne Sexton</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=345423" data-title="Oh de Anne Sexton" data-description="It is snowing and death bugs me as stubborn as insomnia. The fierce bubbles of chalk, the little white lesions settle on the street outside. It is snowing and the ninety year old woman who was combing out her long white wraith hair is gone, embalm..."></div> </div> </div>

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