Black Cloud Snapshots

for Sylvia Plath

by Andrew J. Stone

“The eyes and the faces all turned themselves toward me, and guiding myself by them, as if by a magical thread, I stepped into the room.” 
-From the Bell Jar

I. Farewell Lover, Farewell Son
You said the white walls                    
saved you from his piercing hands    
but you were wrong, my                    
dearest, blood flushed down your      
thin thighs as I watched us die      
II. Cannibal Lies
She wanted to leave                     
that’s why she killed your son,    
why she asked the man                
in white to let her die on              
the cold operating table                
III. Confessions to a Psychologist
I stood there in white                                
hovering over the limp                                 
flesh below my claws                                
she was my wife, my dearest,                      
And how does that make you feel?