I was wrapped in black fur & white fur & you undid me & then you placed me in gold light & then you crowned me, while snow fell outside the door in diagonal darts. While a ten-inch snow came down like stars in small calcium fragments, we were in our own bodies (that room that will bury us) & you were in my body (that room that will outlive us) & at first I rubbed your feet dry with a towel because I was your slave & then you called me princess. Princess! Oh then I stood up in my gold skin & I beat down the psalms & I beat down the clothes & you undid the bridle & you undid the reigns & I undid the buttons the bones, the confusions, the New England postcards, the January ten o'clock night, & we rose up like wheat, acre after acre of gold, & we harvested, we harvested.
anne sexton