The raw look on his face, the passion for her wistfully burning and vulnerable, made her feel as if she was the centre of all creation.
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Sharing poems & thoughts, one redacted word at a time.
The raw look on his face, the passion for her wistfully burning and vulnerable, made her feel as if she was the centre of all creation.
Love was simple but it felt like a jumbled vulnerable curiosity and I was utterly without will.
I am better alone I think, an eclectic coffee table stacked with books, I feel more vulnerable to this than to any lover.
Art suggests a fragility that it is too vulnerable in the world. But it is precisely that backhanded compliment to explain wonder in the unassuming mundane.
The vulnerable could prove fatal if reopened scars come alive.