Amy's Collaboration with Anne Sexton

I collaborated with Anne sexton and her poem "A story for rose and her midnight flight to Boston" 

In case you guys can't read the text ill post it here:
The Highlighted parts are what I kept from Anne Sexton's poem

A Story for Rose on the Midnight Flight to Boston

Until tonight they were separate specialties,

different stories, the best of their own worst. 


Riding my warm cabin home, I remember Betsy's

laughter; she laughed as you did, Rose, at the first

story. Someday, I promised her, I'll be someone

going somewhere and we plotted it in the humdrum

school for proper girls. The next April the plane

bucked me like a horse, my elevators turned

and fear blew down my throat, that last profane

gauge of a stomach coming up. And then returned

to land, as unlovely as any seasick sailor,

sincerely eighteen; my first story, my funny failure. 


Maybe Rose, there is always another story, 


better unsaid, grim or flat or predatory. 


Half a mile down the lights of the in-between cities


turn up their eyes at me. And I remember Betsy's


story, the April night of the civilian air crash 


and her sudden name misspelled in the evening paper, 


the interior of shock and the paper gone in the trash 


ten years now. She used the return ticket I gave her. 


This was the rude kill of her; two planes cracking 


in mid-air over Washington, like blind birds. 


And the picking up afterwards, the morticians tracking 


bodies in the Potomac and piecing them like boards 


to make a leg or a face. There is only her miniature 


photograph left, too long now for fear to remember. 


Special tonight because I made her into a story 


that I grew to know and savor. 


A reason to worry, 


Rose, when you fix an old death like that, 


and outliving the impact, to find you've pretended. 


We bank over Boston. I am safe. I put on my hat. 


I am almost someone going home.

 The story has ended.