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 A red-hot needle
hangs out of him, he steers by it
as if it were a rudder, he
would get in the house any way he could
and then he would bounce from window
to ceiling, buzzing and looking for you.
Do not sleep for he is there wrapped in the curtain.
Do not sleep for he is there under the shelf.
Do not sleep for he wants to sew up your skin, he want to leap into your body like a hammer with a nail, do not sleep he wants to get into your nose and make a transplant, he wants do not sleep he wants to bury your fur and make a nest of knives, he wants to slide under your fingernail and push in a splinter, do not sleep he wants to climb out of the toilet when you sit on it and make a home in the embarrassed hair do not sleep he wants you to walk into him as into a dark fire.

by Anne Sexton
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