Alicante lullaby

The Hanging Man
By the roots of my hair some god got hold of me.
I sizzled in his blue volts like a desert prophet.

The nights snapped out of the sight like a lizard's eyelid:
The world of bald white days in a shadeless socket.

A vulturous boredom pinned me in this tree.
If he were I,he would do what I did.
(Sylvia Plath)