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Sylvia Plath, from the ‘The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath’  (via mirroir)
I drink the cold pure night air and the clear unbelievably delicate crescent-moonlight with a greedy reverence.
posted 4 years ago on 11th November
via lifeinpoetry     source letheane-deactivated20200121
tags:   w
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