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vanessa daou – dear anne sexton lyrics

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my dearest anne,
i am living by a lake
with a young man
i met one week after you died.

his beard is red,
his eyes flicker like cat’s eyes,
& the amazing plum of his tongue
sweetens my brain.
he is like n-body
since i love him.
his c-ck sinks deep
in my heart.

–

i have owed you a letter
for months.

–

i wanted to chide
the manner of your death
the way i might have once
revised your poem.
you are like n-body
since i love you,
& you are gone.

–

can you believe
your death gave birth to me?
live or die,
you said insistently.
you chose the second
& the first chose me.
i mourned you
& i found him
in one week.

–

is love the sugar-coated poison
that gets us in the end?
we spoke of men
as often as of poems.
we tried to legislate away
the need for love –
that backseat f-ck
& death caressing you.

–

why did you do it
in your mother’s coat?
(i know
but also know
i have to ask.)
our mothers get us hooked,
then leave us cold,
all full-grown orphans
hungering after love.

–

you loved a man who sopoe
“like greeting cards.”
“he f-cks me well
but i can’t talk to him.”
we shared that awful need
to talk in bed.
love wasn’t love
if we could only speak
in tongues.

–

& the intensity of unlove
increased
until the motor, the running motor
could no longer power
the driver,
& you, with miles to go,
would rather sleep.

–

between the pills, the suicide pills
& our giggly vodkas in the algonquin…
between your round granny gl-sses
& your eyes blue as glaciers…
between your stark mother-hunger
& your mother courage,
you knew there was only one poem
we all were writing.

–

no compet-tion.
“the poem belongs to everyone
& god.”
i jumped out of your car
suicide car
& into his arms.

your death was mine
i ate it
& returned.

–

now i sit by a lake
writing to you.
i love a man
who makes my finger ache.
i type to you
off somewhere in the clouds.
i tap the table
like a spiritualist.

–

s-x is a part of death;
that much i know.
you voice was earth,
your eyes were glacier-blue.
your slender torso
& long-stemmed american legs
drape across
this huge blue western sky.

–

i wan to tell you “wait,
don’t do it yet.”
love is the poison, anne,
but love eats death.

- vanessa daou lyrics

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