Releasing yourself to the stars, you feel elated, vibrant, at peace. For once, finally at peace. Problem is, in doing so, you condemned her to walk through the mud alone. You held one wing while she held the other.
Her hands reach skyward, a silent prayer on her lips. You fly in ethereal bliss, unaffected. The star reflected in her shining eyes flickers and dims but you’re too far away to see that. All that matters now is ascension as her cold hand falls to her side.
Patience, they say, is a virtue and one you never much cared for anyway.
tara caribou | ©2020
wonderfully sad
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Thanks Mike.
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Patience has lost itself when it comes to me. It becomes a crutch sometimes.
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I can totally understand that part.
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Fabulously evoked ❤
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Thank you! ☺️
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It’s a pleasure
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Ok. So I’ve read this a few times and keep seeing something different: a piece, perhaps, about death and the feeling of being left; or of letting someone go to realise their dreams; or maybe one part of a relationship striking out and abandoning the orher.
Great writing, Tara.
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Thanks for reading, Chris. Indeed you nailed it with one of those (at least the perspective I was writing from). I sure appreciate you taking the time to mull over these thoughts.
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☺
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Patience sometimes wear us down in a way of stream polishing the pebbles, not all turn out in good shapes. Love to you Tara.
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That’s for sure!! 💕
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Always beautifully spoken as I remembered 🖤
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Thank you so much 💕
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So sad but beautifully evocative Tara.
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Thanks for reading Andrea 💕
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I like the stark contrast from the elation: “you condemned her to walk through the mud alone.” Nice post!
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Thanks Benjamin!
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Welcome!
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