Part I I saw her coming, leather lead in hand. Kicking up flaky, orange mud. The mongrel didn’t see me; I was hidden beneath the leaf of the palm tree, waxy hood disguising my eager spike. She was laughing, sun-bleached blonde bob bouncing with each step. I had to do it, especially when I saw … Continue reading Lesson from a Thorn
Caught up in your stardust kisses, I reach for my brush and paint a galaxy with only you in it. -Our little piece of heaven at the edge of the world. Laura Marie Copyright: Laura Davis © 2018, all rights reserved.
I pick up a hot steaming mocha-latte From my local coffee shop, Pull up a chair And stare across At the Starbucks over the street. There’s a Costa And a Caffè Nero too, No more than three doors apart. I take the first sip of my coffee. Slow. Mulling over the bitter-chocolate foam. After the … Continue reading Coffee Stop
he looked at her and his smile wrapped around her like bendable sunlight: impossible, perfect, and then and then... snowflake kisses under a summer cloud before evening dances across a forest and over London's bridges. And she thought, "The language of laughter, your own personal dialect is dangerous to me. It pulls me in, like … Continue reading smiles and kisses
just ask, he said, drawing me closer. For what? I asked. yellow specks were running through his irises, colliding with a splash of grey-blue- the exact same colour of a cigarette packet my mum used to buy. just ask, he said, if you want to kiss me. and I could taste the smile on his … Continue reading grey-blue
I am the empty, meandering lake, carved and scooped out by the edges of your finger nails. I am the echo from the top of a mountain. Your icicles drop and slice through the centre of my heart. The stampede charge beside my river, buffalo stomp, panic, kick up veld; The cracks grow, longer, thicker, … Continue reading Core
Before Gaps in the cloud's quilt-work reveals light splashes of blue, the sun smiles on the clouds' fleeced edges; a celestial white glow, closely contrasted by deep, winter grey. Threads of black separate from the main body of those stretched, scruffy white ovals, and reach out like a thin, broken arm, slowly trying to knit … Continue reading 16.10.17: five minutes under a morning and afternoon sky
He looks at her With half-closed Eyes, watered With last night's Dreams and Whispers "Good morning" In a voice still Dripping with Sleep's warm Honey. Laura Marie Copyright: Laura Davis © 2017, all rights reserved.
Leaves that are long fallen, curled and dry, skirt up and dance around our still feet in their reds, yellows and greens, and for a moment I get lost, swimming in the light hues of your hot-chocolate eyes. You tell me that my eyes aren't green; that the way they change colour, the way it … Continue reading about your eyes
You haven't lost Until the prospect of victory Is so far beyond your reach That it's now a dot; A speck. You call for it, But it doesn't hear you - Won't hear you. That's when you've lost. You've lost when victory Doesn't even want you. Laura Marie Copyright: Laura Davis © 2017, all rights … Continue reading Lost