Author: Vievee Francis
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CHIMERA by Vievee Francis
I have no charms. Admittedly. No gold comb can move through This mane. My skin is not translucent. It is not soft. Mine is a tail to fear. I know.
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EPICUREAN by Vievee Francis
A hungry mouth, an empty mouth, insistent mouth, mouth that would be filled by the seaweed of me, that would crack the shell with a rock and take its portion. The mouth gages its slide, gapes— grotto mouth. Mouth where I might go to pray, to fall upon my knees before. A mouth full of…