Her skin wears the soft suede
of the soil that birthed her,
brown as sun-warmed earth
after a summer rain.
Inside,
a burst of spring green,
fresh as first leaves,
her flesh freckled with constellations
formed by black seeds,
tiny dark promises
rooted deep,
waiting for a chance to sprout.
August has filled her,
heat pooling in her veins,
yet she still holds
the sharp edge of youth,
that bright, unruly tang
slowly softening her naivety,
welcoming the new honeyed sweetness,
juicy self-realized peace,
she is just learning
to call her own.
About the Creator
Ellie Hoovs
Breathing life into the lost and broken. Writes to mend what fire couldn't destroy. Poetry stitched from ashes, longing, and stubborn hope.
My Poetry Collection DEMORTALIZING is out now!!!: https://a.co/d/5fqwmEb
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