Author’s note: These poems are erasures of the letters of Anne Sexton. I have not altered words or word order, but I have modified capitalization and punctuation of the original texts.
Source: Anne Sexton: A Self-Portrait in Letters. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 1977.
March 13, 1957
Darling—
I adore you all over
the page, all over the lonely
house. Your face haunts
the still made bed.
I know the void and loss
of you. Find the sharp way—
possess me. Whatever it is,
it is like starting over.
Do you remember how
to reach the begging me
in a more delicate way?
I want to be only ghost
and witch. How fleeting
it is—doves cooing in
the pine. Spring will come.
You will come home, too.
Anne
November 2, [1948]
Dear—
I have been monstrously good.
Then the rains came.
Plenty of drinking, and I gave myself
a very nice burn. I did not sleep
at all on Friday night. Saturday night
I wore my satin dress. My heart’s desire
is that the worst is over.
Thank God for now.
Very much love,
Anne
May 8, 1963
Dear—
If I were to listen to God,
I would be tempered a bit.
That’s the whole trouble.
So far I have not succumbed.
It can be a lonely road. All these
idle thoughts, all this is wrong.
Writing a poem, each word
ripped out. The wrong
things start to happen.
A new kind of orthodoxy—
the only way—to go back
to your desk.
With my best wishes.
Lauren Davis is the author of the short story collection The Nothing (YesYes Books), the poetry collection Home Beneath the Church (Fernwood Press), the Eric Hoffer Grand Prize short-listed poetry collection When I Drowned, and three chapbooks. She holds an MFA from the Bennington College Writing Seminars. Her work has appeared in numerous literary publications and anthologies including Prairie Schooner, Poet Lore, Ibbetson Street, Ninth Letter and elsewhere.