Gazing, gazing, gazing into replicated delicacy;
one would like …
… a pensive mode, little concern, just the decoration (please), the sunlight, the quiet repetition, the ongoing distance, all those bits of actions good for happiness; some resolution eventually, some hope of a steadfast grip on protective surroundings.
But sometimes there is a fight to be fought, a battle – maybe not desired – but, nonetheless there.
No time for the sissy-shit.
There must be some moment when the door can be slammed, confirming entering the confrontation or the withdrawal. But then again, which is sensible, it is never quite clear.
One thought on “#78 … The gaze and the grasp …”
Love the subtle sensibility and natural harsh reality …
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