Suze Francis


My writing voice
is the texture of pliant:
sliding cool, gliding and sheer,
seeing and passing over or
scooping up and entangling,
sometimes obscuring with its fizz and delight.

My writing voice seeks
this hold for that curve;
this word for that truth.

My writing voice names
diaphanous trees waving past
dark rocks steady in the depths below.

My writing voice is a babble of commentary
running alongside
the wordless vein of experience
that throbs through the self.

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