There are some, that can see the fine lines between reality and fantasy.
There are others, that do not.
I see it...the fragile space between each depth and line.
I see you.
The creases of smile lines..the crows feet..where sun beat upon your handsome gentle smile in the daylight of a golf game...your hands scrambling to grip the "stick" just right..your head turn toward me..for the look of approval...glancing at me, amidst pines and weeping willows.
Sun down..as it cast shadows upon our silhouettes.
My heart beating..begging to meet the constant drum of yours.
You.
I failed this Love.
But I never failed to see you.
Beyond the chaos.
You are Love.
Pure and seeking for the heart of acceptance.
I've loved you then.. and I always will.
You gave me a piece of you.
I will carry it..all of my days.
Natasha Evans
Oct 22, 2015
Oct 22, 2015 at 1:19 AM UTC
There are some, that can see the fine lines between reality and fantasy.
There are others, that do not.
I see it...the fragile space between each depth and line.
I see you.
The creases of smile lines..the crows feet..where sun beat upon your handsome gentle smile in the daylight of a golf game...your hands scrambling to grip the "stick" just right..your head turn toward me..for the look of approval...glancing at me, amidst pines and weeping willows.
Sun down..as it cast shadows upon our silhouettes.
My heart beating..begging to meet the constant drum of yours.
You.
I failed this Love.
But I never failed to see you.
Beyond the chaos.
You are Love.
Pure and seeking for the heart of acceptance.
I've loved you then.. and I always will.
You gave me a piece of you.
I will carry it..all of my days.
Natasha Evans
