My Dear Nefertiti:

"What is this, behind this veil, is it ugly, is it beautiful?
It is shimmering, has it breasts, has it edges?

I am sure it is unique, I am sure it is what I want.
When I am quiet at my cooking I feel it looking, I feel it thinking

Is this the one I am too appear for,
Is this the elect one, the one with black eye-pits and a scar?

Measuring the flour, cutting off the surplus,
Adhering to rules, to rules, to rules.

Is this the one for the annunciation?
My god, what a laugh!

But it shimmers, it does not stop, and I think it wants me.
I would not mind if it were bones, or a pearl button.

I will only take it and go aside quietly.
You will not even hear me opening it, no paper crackle,

(...)

No falling ribbons, no scream at the end.
I do not think you credit me with this discretion. "

Sylvia Plath