View allAll Photos Tagged longing
“I want to know
if you know
how to melt into that fierce heat of living
falling toward
the center of your longing.”
― David Whyte
“I don’t know what they are called, the spaces between seconds, but I think of you always in those intervals.” — Salvador Plascencia
Polaroid Week: Day 4
Expired Polaroid Blue Film
"Je ne sais pas ce que ça s'appelle, les vides entres les secondes, mais je pense toujours à toi pendant des temps."
– Salvador Plascencia
Note : C'est une pellicules perimée, il n'y a pas de traitement ajouté à la photo
..::B2K Design::..Outfit Amel - ADD
Compatible bodies:
♥️ LaraX
♥️ legacy
♥️ Reborn/Waifu
♥️ Nhumana
Mainstore maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Thoth/172/16/22
Marketplace marketplace.secondlife.com/p/B2K-DesignOutfit-Amel-LaraX-...
Not everyone agrees with our government and their Covid-19 measures. Suspicion and impatience are increasing among some.
"I am longing to be with you, and by the sea, where we can talk together freely and build our castles in the air."
–Bram Stoker, Dracula
After getting home from work, overwhelmed, stressed and ready to flop on my bed... the phone rings... its ...HIM....i answer..."hello?"... on the other end..his deep, commanding voice responds...."hey baby... ill be by in 10 min... pack a bag for the weekend"....images of entangled nights and blissful mornings..race thru my mind... he hangs up abruptly...snapping me out of my daze....I gasp...as excitement rushes thru my body.. a little skip and hop in my step.. hurriedly smashing clothes in my weekend bag..... wide grin curling at the corners of my mouth...several minutes later, I hear his key unlock the front door ...his voice booming...."Where is baby? Lets go! Flight leaves in 3 hrs..."..i respond.. "almost done Daddy!".. he moves to collect my things... after our flight and arrival at Hotel Plaza Athenee.. he leads me to a balcony in our penthouse suite...overlooking the city... now held in his arms... safe..free.. happy... longing in Paris....
Thanks Adam for building this and the fun shot... ♥
This one was taken in the "bois de Lauzelle" (Lauzelle wood).
There were no flowers yet but the spring was slowly arriving.
I came to an island adrift in the vastness, a sanctuary where silence is not absence but a living presence. It is the silence of my world, born of a quiet ache—the loss of her, once near, now vanished into the unseen. This hush gathers around me like twilight, mending what was broken, steadying what was restless, yet never erasing the shadow of longing.
Upon its shores, I kneel in the sand. My words are not merely spoken but breathed as prayers through trembling hands. The tide erases them, yet their essence lingers, carried into the sea’s eternal rhythm. And in that rhythm, I hear her voice, tender and unwavering:
She speaks through the Sea: “I have never left you. My breath moves in the waves, my love rests in the tide. Each crest carries my memory, each retreat my return. I hold your ache, and I give it back as calm. I am yours still.”
Mist rises from the island’s heart, drifting like a spirit across stone and grove. It enfolds me, and within its veil I feel her shadow walking beside me—her nearness pressing against my soul, her devotion woven into the air.
She whispers through the Mist: “I walk with you, unseen but near. I am the touch you cannot hold, the silence that still embraces. Loss is not emptiness— it is another way of being close. In my veil, I enfold you. You are mine, always.”
And then the sunset arrives—pale as the moon. It does not blaze with fire, but glows with quiet mercy, a silvered light softening the horizon. Gold fades into pearl, crimson into rose, violet into ash. In its pallor, I see her face in the sky, luminous and tender, her gaze woven into the evening hush.
She proclaims through the Pale Sunset: “I am remembrance, and I am yours. What was presence is now light, what was loss is now flame. Your words rise into me, and I crown them with stillness. Your ache is not a wound, but a passage. Through me, longing becomes peace, and silence becomes song. I love you still.”
And then, as twilight deepens, her voices gather together—sea, mist, and pale sunset speaking as one, yet carrying her devotion:
Her Chorus sings: “I cradle your loss, I hold your longing. I veil what is absent as nearness, I transfigure ache into light. In my hush, you are not alone. In my cycle, you are remade. I am with you, always.”.
Here, in the silence of my world, I am renewed. Twilight is not a fading, but a threshold. Sand, sea, mist, and pale sunset form a cycle, a myth of belonging where longing becomes peace. Concealed yet revealed, I stand at the island’s heart, listening as she walks beside me, her love woven into the island—and in that hush, I am remade.
Lost
A small brook Estero Natales with intense desire to meet the vastness of the Pacific Ocean.....
Taken on a stroll in Puerto Natales, Patagonia, Chile