sometimes she’s the past;
a lingering aftertaste of
the wine you had yesterday,
a flashback of emotions
you felt when you drowned as a kid,
a familiar smell
you never could describe.

sometimes she’s the present,
full of spontaneity,
shallow breaths and quick heartbeats,
she bursts with life
and carries around a vibrant aura,
she lights up a room
and gets it on its feet.

she’d be vintage
then modern in a second;
she walks as though
she came from an era
where women wore dresses
and were lacking
the right to suffrage—
with so much finesse,
an air of royalty,
but she talks with sheer determination
that oozes in her every word

her elegance is fit
for the era of monarches;
she was a perfect example
of an heiress to a kingdom
but her ferocity
was of a modern woman,
she’s not scared of anything;
she wields her own sword of freedom

she was the past and the present
all at the same time;
she will turn your peaceful world into a haze,
with her old-fashioned passion
and her new-worldly blaze



photo from unknown


2 thoughts on “past/present”

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