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Cecelia Francis Mar 2016
Is the line under
the signifier: a thing
not self-originating:

And the I that takes
a pleasure in watching
it identifies with the self
watching it happily identify

This representation of the
self in verbal and then
ideal form to be faster,

Faster, faster, because
Mommy is near and I have
wings and can ******
you with my bare hands

It's an understanding
in an unconventional way:
To say that the utterance
gives way to strength
I sense a pattern
Cecelia Francis Mar 2016
She's changed and
much more sensitive
than she used to be like:

She'll cry if something
is sad enough to cry
about and say "how sad!"

To herself, she says
softness can be a reverse
blade sword that cannot ****

It says "I will not ****," with
a murderous strike: a representation
of a murderous stroke, twice

Removed from a first killing
swing a springtime of ******
youth and creative expression

Exists in the ego only and
the line between signs a
flash of the you in the universe

How natural and harsh, such
lovely waste: an amazing
mazing system of constructing
Idk a weird combination of influences
Cecelia Francis Mar 2016
Whose *** do you
tat for up the sleeves

Of a fine charlatan
selling tinctures and
such
Idk lol
Cecelia Francis Mar 2016
Breathing expands the
belly and the roots

At the top of the head
contracts the greater force

Extends into the toroidal
field until they resonate

A little higher, a little tone
sharpener, a little lquiet
Cecelia Francis Mar 2016
I was going to
do an obnoxious
blackout post but

Decided against it,
because who really
needs or wants it,
anyway

And it's in these small
ways that you affect me
Cecelia Francis Mar 2016
It's 4:53 and
I've woken from my
sleep to think of you and how

This whole speak
when spoken to thing
isn't for me and I've run
out of reasons to stay except
for bad timing and fearing

your immaturity and the
paltry amount of love
left I guess

I would stay if I
thought you wanted me
Cecelia Francis Mar 2016
Well **** me if
I haven't had this

memory before of a
love expanding during
its reconstruction.

The purpose of such
a thought is to make it
like a poem- all pure and
full of the meaning its given,

and I remember the point
of remembering: to whittle
away the excess and reveal its
ideal form, but what if

it gives you a back kick
a little bit of Joyce, a little bit of Yates
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