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Cliché to say
see yourself
through my eyes,
but, oh my darling,
if only you could,
these mirror irises
would turn you forever blind
to the lies…

Lie with me,
let me stroke your hair,
no goals today
save
for accepting this
safe
tender love and care.

Curtsy

Sandpiper scurries
to and fro
with the fanciest of footwork
from tide’s leading flow,

dipping, receding,
with each orchestrated ebb,
back and forth
in time, once and again.

I raise my arms
and curtsy too
and dance
with the wind
despite the gray and
black and blue.

Breaking Chains

When the hurt floods in
and your traumas
drain your green
and starve to death
your newly-sprouted dream,

when the cobwebs reappear
and re-chain you
to faulty self-beliefs,
when you bow your head
and turn with shame from me,

know that I
will always remain
to break the cycle
of love leaving you again.

I will lend my green
and yellow and light,
and whisper that I love you
still and more and despite

like you have done for me
in this beautiful, mutual growing

of self-love.

Psalms

Beside them the birds of the heavens dwell; they sing among the branches.
Psalm 104:12

Emerging from tepals,
I simply listen
to the birds’
morning songs
before the wakening
and bustle
of the world
in which we both
belong,
before the sun itself
beats its rays down;
thank you, Lord,
for the gradual
transitions
and living Psalms.

Poem and image ©LauraDenise

Petals in the Sand

I am still faithfully following
petals as paths
with my soul’s whispered directions
to where you are at,
the one to reciprocate
all this love I have,
and along the way,
I’ve grown to love
the way
I am.

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Hollowed

The pull of the day,
of the years,
of everyone’s needs
leaves shadows
and cavities
from ebb’s
never-ending
taking,
but the sun’s
reflection
warms me
in oranges,
and the glow
stays.
The light
one way
or another
will
illuminate,
independent of
ever reaching
that haunted,
hollowed
space.

Poem and images ©LauraDenise

Amidst and Between

Amidst the thorns,
beneath the wounds,
we can take turns
bringing self-love
to bloom,

we’ll smooth
the edges
so raw and jagged,
each lend the silk
of virgin petals

birthed in kisses
and gentle touches,
countering the poisons
of previous “gardeners”
with ill-intentions,
fencing us from
freedom.

We’ll remain
faithful companions,
take turns in the cycle
of taking and giving,

in sun and shadow,
through every internal
season and weathered vane.

We’ll simply heal
and learn
what love is,
together
the right way

until we both
blossom white,
centers exposed
to feel
the cleansing
rain.

Love will
beget love
which will
beget love
to spread.

It begins
with us.
It begins
within.

Brushes of Soul

what if i’m a drifter
not meant to float alone
but to feel
to the core
every spirit
i choose to know
in brief encounters
but bare
soul to soul
stripped to the glow

fearless
deep
strokes
of wounds
and hopes

what if my home
is collectively
each

what if I crave
the companionship
of such fleeting
impressions
that layer
like honey –
raw, sweet

sticking
in this amaranthine
slip

what if to be whole
insatiable must be
the need

let’s feed

each other
truths

when it comes
to how are you

let’s feel

let’s prove
nothing
to this world

let’s love
like we are
eternal

Dissolving into Grace

Saving grace,
whole heart back
in your arms,
you hold all of me
as me;
I never knew
how non-words
could feel the best route.
Unspoken is our reset,
mutual forgiveness,
moving on
but not leaving
anything unaddressed.
We understand,
silent resolutions,
in the simple language
of love.

Do you mind if I stay
extra near
awhile,
to just exist
in this balance,
a respite
from the drama
of being so much?

Sometimes
(more often than not),
I exhaust
myself
with this wild heart
and wild soul
I house.

Hold me tight, my love.
You are the only one

who can.

Mythological Growths

Cycloptic serpent
scorched deep
into my being,
color of decay
not even attempting
to camouflage
into my resilient green,
laying eggs,
disease breeding,
growing larger,
but still unable
to see,
for at my core
is also my heart,
and it bleeds
in light.
You try
to grow more eyes,
but this love
inside
will always
render you
blind,
not Karma
but what is right
finally
for I have falsely seen
too clearly
all my life

your lies.

The exorcist has arrived:
self-love.
Parasite,
good final bye.