I don't know how it is that I never spent much time reading Anne Sexton until now, but I absolutely love her work. Lively, bold, humorous, full of surprise, as well as searching for redemption, connection, meaning, God? but not forgiveness. I love this woman.

Here's a poem I'm digging:

Jesus Suckles by Anne Sexton, from Book of Folly, 1972

Mary, your great
white apples make me glad.
I feel your heart work its
machine and I doze like a fly.
I cough like a bird on its worm.
I’m a jelly-baby and you’re my wife.
You’re a rock and I the fringy algae.
You’re a lily and I’m the bee that gets inside.
I close my eyes and suck you in like a fire.
I grow. I grow. I’m fattening out,
I’m a kid in a rowboat and you’re the sea,
the salt, you’re every fish of importance.

No. No.
All lies.
I am small
and you hold me.
You give me milk
and we are the same
and I am glad.

No. No.
All lies.
I am a truck. I run everything.
I own you.