Francis Rose when she was 18
Dear God,
You sodder the minutes together in your scary love. We join and unjoin with each other and the chain of time trying to smell you in our skin.
Francis Rose's grief
Francis Rose's letters to God from
when she was:
[14]
[14]
[15]
[15]
[16]
[16]
[16]
[17]
[17]
[18]
[18]
[18]
[20]
[21]
[21]
[22]
rain and frying meat
old corsages and underpants
It is snowing
people with soft lives want time
the sestina
the sestina's introduction
brittle, cluttered sentences
airplanes are not angels
people talk in fluttering prayers
please don't be a mirror
thin webbing
sodder the minutes together
fields torn off of a green sun
the sky burns with stars
Tractus Love-cannibalism
Francis Rose's sweater drawer
