evangeline
. . . writes to live. To build something new, to fall in love, to uplift, to see through fresh eyes, and to live vicariously through her characters who get to adventure in far more exciting worlds than she.
Evangeline has written books like King Beatrice and Love Letters from an Insomniac and will be publishing a new collection of poetry and prose. You'll also find her poem Divine Intervention published in Poetry Nation as well as The Curse of Femininity and A Sacrifice of Flesh in Wellspringwords' anthology The Sensualist.
Home is where her bed is and, right now, that's deep in the heart of Texas, likely with a glass of wine, al pastor tacos, and a good book.
FEATURED WORK
Divine Intervention
published by Poetry Nation
may healing find me like a storm / send shivers so bone-deep I shake away the demons which lay claim to my tenderness / may healing come without restraint / to eradicate my fears and chains / to clear my slate / to terrify my opposers / may healing be unkind if it must / I welcome it with open arms / divinely powerful like sky falling / clouds at my feet / stars in my palms / a pantheon at my whim / heaven at my lips / rebirth in tomorrow / may healing steal my breath / crush my lungs and build me from / resiliency most awe-inspiring / and may my heart understand why / for a soul like mine is wearied of mere mediocrity / no longer / when healing finds me / let it take me like a wave / I’ll be reborn in its fiery cleansing / when healing finds me / let the world feel it
we are taught to use our bodies.
we are but our flesh, our offerings,
the warmth of our legs.
masters of illusions & skin.
puppeteers of weaknesses & evils that lurk beneath prayer
all to uncover the truth of you.
I’ll show you where your eyes may travel,
where your lips might yearn to surrender,
where your mind may wander.
I’ll feed you your thoughts & conclusions.
The Curse of Femininity
published by Wellspringwords
The Sensualist
A Sacrifice of Flesh
published by Wellspringwords
The Sensualist
If you could allow me once my idle musings, I would ask that my flesh be made of candlewax / I could grant you sight in darkness and my warmth be a greed you harbor in the winter / I could be your breath of relief when the power goes out. Something nostalgic, something reliable, something yours / You could melt me away at a whim, rebuild me anew in an image that pleases you / Drop oils of her scent in me so that I could remind you of her when your heart begins to ache if
STAYING CONNECTED
