when they were together
no voice need pass between them
their eyes said more spoke louder than mere words
furtive glances
criss-crossed the room like swords brandished
and touches left untouched
bore down upon them with the weight of their own world
their hearts beat in pounding rhythm
tearing apart the deafening silence around them
when
they
were
together
no voice need pass between them
their eyes said more spoke louder than mere words
furtive glances
criss-crossed the room like swords brandished
and touches left untouched
bore down upon them with the weight of their own world
their hearts beat in pounding rhythm
tearing apart the deafening silence around them
when
they
were
together
4 comments:
Sometimes, being in one another's presence amidst the silence is like reaching a fourth dimension of existence. So many contradictory phrases you make that are still so true - "touches left untouched" and "deafening silence". Beautiful, Gypsywoman!
Nevine
yes, the fourth dimension of existence! exactly! i think we've all had experiences such as this - at least, i hope we all have! thanks so much for your kind words!
Nevine said it I think. I call it the comfortable silence in a couple, that is usually the result of experience, understanding, and acceptation of the other. Nothing easy here, a lot of love, a lot of forgiveness too.
Beautiful words here, Jenean. You know about this, don't you? How could you otherwise?
Life bears its own tragedy in the end.
I thought that I would give you a link to a bigger version of this remarkable painting. The Sulphur Match, a funny name for a painting where this element is secondary... and important.
Roger G.
roger, thank you SO much for the larger version of this painting i love so much - it was mesmerizing to sit in front of it and follow sargent's brush strokes, seeing where he began and where he left off with them - and how much pressure here and how little pressure there that he gave to the brush! i felt as if i were in the studio with him - and could see him standing in front of the easel eyeing his magnificent creation of beauty and, holding the tip of the paint brush to his lips, whispering aloud, "ahhh, yes, it is finished" - wonderful experience for which i am so grateful!
it is true that i do know of this - the "this" of my little verse -
thank you again for thinking of me with the visit to sargent's studio! your thoughtfulness is so touching!
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