" the night is only a sort of carbon paper,
blueblack, with the much-poked periods os stars
letting in the light, peephole after peephole ---
a bonewhite light, like death, behind all things.
under the eyes of the stars and the moon's rictus
he suffers his desest pillow, sleeplessness,
stretching its fine,irritating sand in alldirections..."

( insomniac - sylvia plath ).

( pintura de mark rydel ).