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Amanda Francis Jan 2017
I was told perfection didn't exist;
until you proved me wrong.
Amanda Francis Jan 2017
January blues are bittersweet,
Red berries stand resistant to the mourning frost.
death lingers amongst the trees, reigning over a white paradise.
A delicate green **** blows like a flag in the snow, refusing to surrender.

A paradise lays amongst the remains for those willing to see.
cradled in the arms of a great oak, under a blanket of a thousand stars.
Amanda Francis Dec 2016
And I will love you when i draw my last breath.
I will love you when my eyes are closed and in stillness i lay cold.
I will love you when they put me to ground to nourish the food you eat.
And even when death do us part.
Even when my memory sleeps in the back of the minds of people i knew.
My organs will live on in bodies that only know how to love.
And i will love you with the hearts of all those people.
But know!
There would never be enough hearts to contain the ocean.
Amanda Francis Dec 2016
Like a star, your light lets me live.
My world revolves around you.
Like the egyptions followed the sun gods.
I will always worship you.
Amanda Francis Nov 2016
Time is a concept I wish I'd never learned.
I can read 24hr clocks and map earths orbit around the sun.
Diurnal cycles remind my fleeting heart the inevitable will come.
Words of a genius echo in my ear but "time is relevant" can't dim my fear.
Amanda Francis Nov 2016
Today, I woke up to a flesh fair.
Dresses are getting shorter, sometimes there just not there.
More cleavage than ideas, more muscles than compassion.
More media coverage of 'age appropriate' than how to feed the world!

Our bodies are beautiful and nature has hardwired us to know this.
But, know that our bodies preceeded our existence, your ***** bone is not taboo!
You strip your clothes and strip yourself bare whilst you hide under a 1000 layers.
Let's shift focuss from what was always there!

Nakedness can save us, if only we were willing to face the cold.
Pull on your Wolly jumpers, open your mouth to bare your soul.
Weaver a fabric of intimacy, a patchwork connection of trust and honesty.
Shed all the ugliness of media gorged, superficial controversy.
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