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 Oct 2018 frankie
Brandon Conway
I have drank the philters of the oceans
inside the notches of your sculpted bust
chiseled to perfection by my minds notion
immortal beauty to never crumble to dust

Skin of ivory with curves carved by a god
my little ivory girl how my fire burns
breathless, stiff, and lifeless left me aw'd
a singular lonely lover forever yearns

Just one kiss to those stone cold lips
just one before I visit in my dreams
my lips upon yours, hands on hips
how you look while the moon beams

lighting your lovely void face
The lips how they grow so warm!
Your arms how they tightly embrace!
By the gods, a living art form
to forever love in this dark place
 Jul 2018 frankie
Lyn-Purcell
Most            
in care            
honestly              
don't care, not at            
all            
⭐          
f          
r        
o      
m
      ⭐
            w
           h
         a
    t
⭐  
I        
'              
v          
e    
   ⭐
          s
          e
    e
n
⭐    
      




From              
what I've              
seen first hand              
They're  in  it  for              
cash                
⭐              
  t          
h    
e    
y          
⭐                
a                      
r                    
e            
⭐  
        s  
               o
                 ⭐
              o
             b    
       s        
c      
e          
n        
e  
         ⭐


They
hurt my
blood, blaming
HER when THEY are
wrong
⭐    
b        
l              
a            
m      
e
  ⭐
        t
              h
         e
    ⭐
   o    
n    
    e
          ⭐
             w
              h
           o
      ⭐
h  
a        
s      
  ⭐  
        n
            o
               ⭐
             v
         o
    i
  c  
   e
      ⭐

They                                
abuse                              
the weak ones                            
the young ones and                          
old                              
⭐                          
a                
s          
  ⭐        
l      
o            
n              
g          
  ⭐  
         a
         s
  ⭐
t    
h              
e          
y  
       ⭐
                g
                     e
                t  
                  ⭐            
t
h          
e                
i              
r    
       ⭐    
             m
                        o
                       n
                 e
                y      
  ⭐  
t          
h                
e                
y      
  ⭐
               w
                    i
                          l
                         l
                  ⭐
             r
      e    
j      
o          
i        
     c      
          e  
                         ⭐        

                                                                   Love
                                                                    money
                                                                     honestly
                                                                     a    truly   vile
                                                                     root
                                                                           ⭐
                                                                                   t
                                                                                           h
                                                                                                   a
                                                                                                   t
                                                                                               ⭐
                                                                                     i
                                                                              s
                                                                    ⭐
                                                             h
                                                               a
                                                                       r
                                                                                   d  
                                                                                            ⭐
                                                                                                    t
                                                                                                   o
                                                                                            ⭐
                                                                                   k
                                                                            i
                                                                        l
                                                                               l
                                                                                       ⭐
I know, these Lanterns are darker compared to the ones I usually write. Again, these ones hit close to home, and they are specific to MY experience. I, unfortunately, have a relative who is in the hands of the care-system. They're completely vulnerable and I've seen firsthand, how nasty they can be. I witnessed a situation where the so-called carer put their hands on my relative and things...took a really dark turn.
I don't like to think about it. It's just makes me sad and sick that these people are in the business of care for the money.
I know that it's not just my family that the care-system has failed, too.
It's a thorn that's deep in my emotional pain.
*sigh*
She’s got a cheap cigarette
she uses to bury us all in smoke.
It hangs off her lips
and wobbles when she talks.
She’s cracked open a new book,
another ****** romance.

It’s always romance,
she says, taking a drag from her cigarette.
It’s in everything, in every **** book.
Each word she speaks is followed by a puff of smoke,
small clouds that form as she talks
and roll off of the curve of her lips,

the very same lips
that told me romance
is for suckers, told me talks
of love are talks of nothing rolled into a cigarette
she’d never smoke.
She buries her nose in her book

once more, leaving me to stare at the book
cover and nervously gnaw at my lips.
The empty space between us is full of tension and smoke
and somehow, a stubborn romance
that hangs in the air like a half hit cigarette
hangs on the edge of an ashtray. She talks

to me, around me, and about me, but our talks
never include that tension, though I could write a book
full of the way she glances past her cigarette
at me, how her inviting lips
beg me to foolishly romance
her by hurling apprehensive smiles through her wall of smoke.

The tiny wisps of smoke
that swirl around her dance as she talks
about this dime-store romance
novel she happened to pick up, a devastating book
about a man who spent his life with his lips
sewed shut. She finally puts out her cigarette.

The smoke from her cigarette peters out and silence settles over the two of us.
I move my lips and no sound comes out. When she finally talks
again, I cross my fingers in hopes of being the next romance book she wants to discuss.
I never actually posted an edited version of this, so here it is. This is a sestina which follows this form:
1. ABCDEF
2. FAEBDC
3. CFDABE
4. ECBFAD
5. DEACFB
6. BDFECA
7. (envoi) ECA or ACE

— The End —