Her Love

Courtesy: Pixabay
Looking glass lies burned her eyes,
lies she'd deny no more.
She recognized the stalking thoughts,
what they implied,
what they said,
how hatred filled their stares,
threatening love,
her love.

Love was love and nothing less,
so let them burn in hate.
She'd hold the love she cherished,
that clasped her hand,
gave her joy,
while she treasured her discovery,
that life was about love,
her love.

©October 2022
Christina Anne Hawthorne

About Christina Anne Hawthorne

Alive and well in the Rocky Mountains. I'm a fantasy writer who also dabbles in poetry, short stories, and map making. My Ontyre tales are an alternative fantasy experience, the stories rich in mystery, adventure, and romance. Alternative fantasy? Not quite steampunk. Not quite gothic. In truth, the real magic is in those who discover what's within.
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