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Frances Pasteque Poem
Twiddle
Twoodle
You're old hamster is now a noodle
Copyright © Frances Pasteque | Year Posted 2021
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Frances Pasteque Poem
Maybe the last form of rebellion is pretty
Being pretty
Only pretty
Pretty useless
looking pretty on a leather couch at a house party
waiting for the world to sit down on the other end
Copyright © Frances Pasteque | Year Posted 2021
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Frances Pasteque Poem
I wish you'd call me pretty
When you're not trying to scare me
I wish i had a sunburn
to be soothed by a cold moon
I wish I'd get asked questions
From people with no answers
I wish I could just float away
Without a "be back soon"
Because nothing's ever open ended
In hallways of closed doors
I'm on an elevator going sideways
On the second floor
Bathing in beige carpet
My mascara tastes so sweet
The smell of sunblock clogs my pores
Everything's left incomplete
Copyright © Frances Pasteque | Year Posted 2021
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Frances Pasteque Poem
When I was little I thought in the wind I could fly,
But now I just listen from inside,
Confined to the house,
Stuck to the ground,
Mourning the flight that I never found.
But what if i choose to rejoice in the sound?
Rejoice in the rush of the leaves falling down,
For though I remain in my crystalline box,
The wind still hums,
The earth never stops.
Copyright © Frances Pasteque | Year Posted 2021
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Frances Pasteque Poem
Mixed berry mist
We sit around in your garage
Folding chairs and headlights
Ive never felt less lost
The room starts to twist
you kneel between my knees
There is something in these moments
That makes my stomach heave
As we run through the empty woods
All their faces melt away
The second we hit sidewalk
your body starts to sway
Because its the end of summer
The concrete's turning cold
The midnights' bathed in green light
My body feels so old
Copyright © Frances Pasteque | Year Posted 2021
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