Photography, Poetry

velvet and lace

her stance awkward
elbows close to her hips
feet planted firmly
her face speaks loudest

at 16 defiant
untrusting
already weary

at 56
still not trusting
still weary

it’s alright
in the shadows
where she has
draped flowery vines
over her body
and rests on the
south side of the tree
and likes the
moss beneath her
the leaves tickling
her bare skin

there’s no one watching
no one to judge
no harsh words
no pain
except her own

her voices whisper
“you are diamonds
and cool to the touch”

she whispers
“I want to be velvet
and lace”

(Photo credit Wilowispaperio, 2014)

diamonds and lace

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