Floral aspects of my life blooming in front of me
like wallpaper memories of my pink room
The smell of loose leaf hugging a red leather binder
flourishes underneath the sunlit words
of my young maiden's hand;
Looping letters that show the romantic side of me
small caricature vowels and nouns
that reveal the private parts that are never seen
Blushing mornings that drench the violets
in that little garden where father kept his vines
Quiet evenings spent in my room
talking to a Statue, "reflection of a Mystic soul"
I was so many girls back then, but today I am only one
A seasoned writer with who lives and strives  
despite the world's demise.

Dec 15, 2021