Traces of Ourselves

16 Mar

IMG_7849 SeviBeau is thrilled to bring you this month’s guest blogger, Holly Cortell. This is her to the left. Holly is one of the most talented writers I know, and I was confident she would bring us a unique and heartfelt interpretation of Sexy Vibrant & Beautiful… and boy did she deliver. :)

I hope her words sound as sweet for your ears as they do for mine.



You miss out on the sweet
when you don’t taste the sugar
Brown sugar meltin’
slippin’ an’ slidin’ through your fingers
like maple syrup
Don’t you wanna taste?
Honey ain’t no sweeter
Candy don’t taste no better than this
don’t miss
the sweet kiss
of my sugar
my brown sugar on your lips


A Woman’s Life is a Marathon.
We run hills, and valleys, and wide-open spaces
distances so long and varied
the miles become etched in our faces
And everywhere we go we leave behind
Traces of ourselves
Because for all the paths in all the places
and the many trails she blazes
A Woman’s Quest is clear
All the running and all the races
and all the finish lines she chases
Are so you’ll remember she was here

And dear God, I’m here.  I’m here!


When I was a child, I was a sentence with no verbs.  Just a pile of nouns and adjectives.  A jumble of words.  Silent, still building blocks taking up space, going nowhere.  Stuck to a blank page and dreaming of a future in colors so bright it hurts now to remember them.
Today, I’m a sentence of verbs.  Words floating in the ether; meandering, breathing, shifting, weeping, running.  Moving.  Energy that exists but takes up no space.  Anti-matter with no place to dream, orbiting a stark, gleaming white page with no who or what to explain me.  Wondering, what kind of story am I?  And if no one is reading, am I a story still?
Maybe I am a poem.  A poem full of colors, and wonder, and mystery.   Of heartache and triumph.  With edges and curves.  Words that move and bend and meet.  That matter.  That mean something to some scribe somewhere beyond the sprawling pages of space.
Maybe the words that have always been missing aren’t missing at all and I am complete as I am.   Living as I am written: rhythmic and challenging, charming and tragic.  With magic.
Maybe – just maybe – I am beautiful.  And all the words that I am, I am meant to be.


One Response to “Traces of Ourselves”

  1. Linda O March 18, 2013 at 1:28 pm #

    Beyond words…beautiful and passionate and heart-felt. Thank you, Holly! You are truly beautiful…and most definitely meant to be.

Would love to hear your toughts. :)

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