Holding On

A Faded Romantic's Notebook

Desire__by_ShanaArielle

The days slide away.

They hold on

They hang on to each other as best they can. They clutch at hope like shipwrecked sailors cling to familiar fragments of their broken ship. They imagine land as paradise as every wave rises and falls.

They whisper promises. They paint possibilities. Yet they try to be gentle in their expectations.

They hold back their desire in dams of denial. They numb their needs. They leash their longing. They suppress their sexual sighs in sad silence.

They want it so badly.

But the uncertain days, the empty nights, the fading light, and the hole in the middle of everything, is weakening their grip.

They know that, at any moment, one of them might give up,

And let go.

They know it will hurt. but they don’t know how much.

The days slide past

They hold on.

.

.

© the author writing as Romantic Dominant

Photograph stolen…

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Propinquity.

Americana Injustica

 chaingang university

the act of being tied

closely together

through space and time;

the closeness defined

stronger than steel

a back against mine;

a knowledge of the divine

passed along down

a dried-out bloodline;

the circumstance

repeating itself over

of happenstance;

that tickling sense, a notion

rolling and bending

like the tides in the ocean;

but never broken

beneath its crushing mass

a written word – not one spoken;

the act of being based upon

a kindred, genetic root

that grows deep and long;

a truth they’ve kept in secrecy

overlooking completely,

an element of our propinquity.

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Too Little, Too Much

Source of Inspiration

tree1

My car is too little, too old
My television too small
Clothes that are not chic
hang in my closet.
Thieves leave a donation
when they see what I don’t have.

Yet I am a wealthy woman
rich in my contentment
peaceful in slumber
loved and loving
always eager to start my day.
How blessed am I
walking in the light of love.

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