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 Jan 2015 Q
Cecelia Francis
The fault of
our kind: thoughts
shared closer
than bodies
 Jan 2015 Q
Cecelia Francis
Can I get a hit?
Reverse sniffles, white dragons
flew straight to the head
 Jan 2015 Q
Cecelia Francis
Child eyes
used to spin
the skies into
cotton candy
tasty cloud
nines
 Jan 2015 Q
Cecelia Francis
I wanted so much
to write some
ranting
angry
poem

Then I remembered:
those were the
ones you
liked
best
 Jan 2015 Q
Cecelia Francis
Life is a mandala!
Everything is a mandala!
-oh my God, I can use my lungs-
Nothing lasts and nothing
matters, however lovely
or terrible

Murderous fingers ripping
unimposing string of
yarn, row by
hourly row
@sq our mantra
 Jan 2015 Q
Cecelia Francis
I hate to even
call it love

I'm not sure
what it was
now

Perhaps it was only
a temporary
relief
Or so I'd like to think
 Jan 2015 Q
Cecelia Francis
I feel the earth
stilling, and
so I become
still
 Jan 2015 Q
Cecelia Francis
The poem reaper
-sleek and discreet-
awake after its
long sleep

Post-hibernation:
does one address
the thirst or the
hunger first?
 Jan 2015 Q
Cecelia Francis
"Tell me to stop if
you want me to stop." God, that
was a **** good dream....

Hope of her future,
one there before her, crying.
freedom: white stockings
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