On Looking into the Eyes of a Demon Lover


Here are two pupils
whose moons of black
transform to cripples
all who look:


each lovely lady
who peers inside
take on the body
of a toad.


Within these mirrors
the world inverts:
the fond admirer's
burning darts


turn back to injure
the thrusting hand
and inflame to danger
the scarlet wound.


I sought my image
in the scorching glass,
for what fire could damage
a witch's face?


So I stared in that furnace
where beauties char
but found radiant Venus
reflected there.


Sylvia Plath (Juvenilia)