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Frances May 2018
The finer things you see
Adored and cherished forever they may be
Frigid morning with a bitter cup of hot coffee
And a sense of blooming comradery
I wrote this while working at The Paine art museum in Oshkosh, while talking with a sweet Woman named Cherry.
Frances May 2018
Ears throb, red
    enlarged like the calloused hands of a work man

Progression succinctly procreating

Will it be pruned to grow
stout and fruitless
    Or will it be nurtured in its expanding plumage

The hands of the divine grasp the newly grown roses, and they sniff
     Gawking, hysterical, astounded, grateful

They roll in the thorns
  Because the wind doesn't blow
  Feb 2016 Frances
E. E. Cummings
my love
thy hair is one kingdom
  the king whereof is darkness
thy forehead is a flight of flowers

thy head is a quick forest
  filled with sleeping birds
thy ******* are swarms of white bees
  upon the bough of thy body
thy body to me is April
in whose armpits is the approach of spring

thy thighs are white horses yoked to a chariot
  of kings
they are the striking of a good minstrel
between them is always a pleasant song

my love
thy head is a casket
  of the cool jewel of thy mind
the hair of thy head is one warrior
  innocent of defeat
thy hair upon thy shoulders is an army
  with victory and with trumpets

thy legs are the trees of dreaming
whose fruit is the very eatage of forgetfulness

thy lips are satraps in scarlet
  in whose kiss is the combinings of kings
thy wrists
are holy
  which are the keepers of the keys of thy blood
thy feet upon thy ankles are flowers in vases
  of silver

in thy beauty is the dilemma of flutes

  thy eyes are the betrayal
of bells comprehended through incense
  Feb 2016 Frances
E. E. Cummings
i have found what you are like
the rain,

            (Who feathers frightened fields
with the superior dust-of-sleep. wields

easily the pale club of the wind
and swirled justly souls of flower strike

the air in utterable coolness

deeds of green thrilling light
                                  with thinned

newfragile yellows

                      lurch and.press

—in the woods
                      which
                              stutter
                                        and

                                              sing
And the coolness of your smile is
stirringofbirds between my arms;but
i should rather than anything
have(almost when hugeness will shut
quietly)almost,
                  your kiss
  Feb 2016 Frances
Anastasia Anderson
I'm not sure when everything slowed down,
I blacked out for a second under this smoke cloud
And when I opened up my eyes
My chest felt tight
Something was wrong on this calm quite night
I saw you against my skin
Without my knowledge
Without permission
I attempted to scream but someone else grabbed me
It was in this moment, that I could not see
Only feel and the pain was everlasting
In my heart and of course physically
Have you ever felt so torn
That maybe this was all you were for?
i kicked and flailed but to no avail
I tossed and turned
Attempting to wake
When my eyes ripped open
That was all I could take
I sobbed until my face was soaked
This memory haunts my sleep with its cloak
What do I do when nothing's to keep?
Not even a young girls virginity...
How should I feel when I'm so torn up
When my nights are accompanied by a rapists touch
It's alright, I don't want pitty
I just want to move on
But I can't until, I'm out of this city
  Oct 2015 Frances
NV
BUT YOU HAVE TO STOP TELLING PEOPLE,
THAT NO ONE WILL LOVE THEM UNTIL THEY START LOVING THEMSELVES.
YOU HAVE TO STOP PLANTING THIS IDEA IN PEOPLES BRAINS THAT THEY ARE UNWORTHY OF LOVE,
JUST BECAUSE OF THEIR OWN STRUGGLE.
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