You wrote
about a nightmare world
Brothers Grimm
dialed one notch grimmer
Where every soul mirrored
another
a dark twin lurking
And you
sharing so much of my name
Sylvia Plath, Sheila Path
Your name asphixiated my hopes
as much as that oven
killed you
Only by changing mine
could I begin to think
I might escape your fate
But I still wonder:
Was it the gas or the
poems that finally did it?
