Dear Sylvia Plath Poem by Sajal Ahmed

Dear Sylvia Plath
this morning
I dedicate a knife to you.
The blood of my veins and sub‑veins
I dedicate all of it to you.
So that you are blood‑smeared in sorrow.

Carbon monoxide
smeared on your body,
I am fire;
even then, the desire to hold you.

Not this way—at least as a lover,
in some other way
I can give you a death without disturbance—
a death calmer
than the one you chose.

I have come with poison‑soaked wine in my hand,
come, take a sip.