Twenty-six

Water spills from my edges –

rose petal skin unfolding

like french kisses and sweetness.

 

I am a tree whittled 

to pale, raw bark glimmering

in moonlight as she tells me every secret

of every star, and ink blooms –

 

foliage words curling themselves

wistfully around every inch of me.

 

I write love letters to myself 

in blues, peaches, pinks

and seal them with blood

come honey gold. 

 

And I love, I love and love.

 


 

A poem I wrote about turning 26 last month.

Poem: © Kristiana Reed 2020

Between the Trees UK

Between the Trees US

3 thoughts on “Twenty-six

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s