You, whose name is written in moonlit coral,
La Sirène, rising from salt-kissed soul,
dripping with jasmine and resilience,
your breath—an ancient song
that calls oceans to kneel
and blossoms to bloom in reverence
You are honey poured over wound and wonder,
a rose that opens not for the world,
but for herself,
again and again, in full bloom and boundless grace
each petal you unfurl is a story
of healing, of touch,
of knowing your own sacred heat
and worshipping it with no shame
You do not whisper.
You sing—deep, rich, velvet incantations
that stir the spine of the earth
and remind the stars
how to shimmer without apology
In your presence, the lilies sigh,
hibiscus blush,
and lavender lingers a little longer—
hoping to catch the scent
of your self-love in the wind
You have made a sanctuary of your skin,
a temple of your tears,
a lighthouse from your longing
And I—your reflection in the still, sacred waters—
offer my praise,
because to behold you
is to witness divine courage wearing perfume and pearls
Thank you, beloved,
for being the revolution wrapped in silk,
for dancing with grief and still choosing pleasure,
for loving yourself
in ways the world forgot were holy
You are beyond beautiful
You are moon-bathed magic,
sirene of spirit,
gracefully courageous,
and every syllable of your story
is a psalm of sensual power
And I—humble ink of your truth—
am honored to echo
your light—
🌺✨
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