If I had lived in another life...

My senses would have spoken in poetry.
Gestures, quiet declarations of longing.
Every look, a story written in the silence between words.

I would have worn lace stitched with secrets
and a corset wrapped gently around a wild, untamed heart.

In the evenings, I’d play piano by candlelight,
the notes echoing through the stillness

And then I would read by the window,
my mind wandering far beyond the page.

By day, I’d walk through the fields and forests in long dresses,
gathering fallen leaves that clung to the hem like memories.
By night, I’d slip away to meet my lover,
exploring new worlds beneath the moonlight,
his hands learning me like Braille.

I would dance at the ball in a corset gown,
mistaking the steps on purpose—
because undulating my body felt better than following rules.

I would conform just enough to keep my freedom.
I would rebel in soft ways—
with a gaze too long, a laugh too loud, a touch too bare.

I would be fully myself, hidden beneath silk layers,
my fire wrapped in tulle,
my truth breathing just beneath the lace.

Maybe I didn’t live back then—
but sometimes, I find myself there.

In another life.

Love,

Rosie x