Love the 70s 💋
Want you to see me in my everyday 💋 as always keeping it Real 💯🔥💋
Love the 70s 💋
Want you to see me in my everyday 💋 as always keeping it Real 💯🔥💋
An expert explains the psychology behind the latest phenomenon in modern dating.
Source: What Is “Breadcrumbing”? A Relationships Expert Explains
watch this space
I just had an idea
when I get the chance
I’ll put a poem here
it may not be a good one
but at least I’ll take the time
to fill this empty place up
with a silly little rhyme
there is silence save birdsong
and darkness save this shaded light
there’s a blank white page before me
that waits on me to write,
there are no thoughts within me
save those I have of you
how can I them in conscience fair
with meagre words imbue.
so I hear beyond the silence
and drift into the dark
to set my pen in readiness
before I make my mark.
She wants him
to follow her
to chase her
to track her
to seek her
to haunt her
to hunt her
to charm her
to pursue her
to stalk her
to seduce her
endlessly.
But she knows
he will not.
However much
he desires her
it is not
his way.
.
.
© the author writing as Romantic Dominant
Not brand new, yet true.
Art by William Oxer
Here we are in the month of May of 2021 already! It goes so fast, doesn’t it?
I participated in the NaPoWriMo (National Poetry Writer’s Month) last month. About half way through the month, I was wondering if my decision to participate was a good one or not! I did struggle making my ‘deadline’ on several occasions, but managed to pull something out of the ‘ole grey matter just in time.
One thing that helped tremendously was that I found myself a writing buddy. An “Accountability Buddy”, if you will. Chuck over at The Reluctant Poet agreed to this. This was great! I knew I needed someone to poke me and encourage me to write Every Day! Chuck has become a Dear Friend and we write back & forth quite often. So it was pretty easy to fall into a routine where I would send him a sneak peek of…
View original post 182 more words
when my days are swept
golden –
into all I have left
when moments
are counted for more
I shall look at these hands
and remember the ways
they warmed to your longing
as never before
when my ears have misplaced
the sound of your voice –
a melody penned
long ago
as my eyes
fill with tears –
once reflected by yours
ocean deep pools
of your soul
tho my arms be denied
the reaching around –
I will rest in the memory
of bliss
when my tongue has forgotten
the taste of your name
my lips will remember
your kiss
. . .
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