Don't get up so early, my love.  I am not your mother but I will take you by the hand and undo you. Unwet the towel.  Unroll it and leave it hanging by the sink.  Let them all sleep, with their sickle moon eyelids, with their small collections of newly formed thoughts.  Drop … Continue reading ‘To the Ghost of Sylvia Plath’ by Nikki Magennis