In Plaster

aperri (2009) statue at Kos Museum, Kos, Greece

In bed last night, reading a book of Sylvia Plath's early poems (Crossing the Water), before the fame of Ariel and her death. One particularly stuck with me, an excerpt below

I shall never get over this! There are two of me now:
This new absolutely white person and the old yellow one,
And the white person is certainly the superior one.
She doesnt need food, she is one of the real saints.
At the beginning I hated her, she had no personality-
She lay in bed with me like a dead body
And I was scared, because she was shaped just the way I was

Only much whiter and unbreakable and with no complaints.
I couldnt sleep for a week, she was so cold.
I blamed her for everything, but she didnt answer.
I couldnt understand her stupid behavior!
When I hit her she held still, like a true pacifist.
Then I realized what she wanted was for me to love her:
She began to warm up and I saw her advantages.