Poem Number 23109

survival

survival.
This then, is how you and I survive
the harsher moments:
we pretend affection
imagine friendship
invent connection
share laughter--
and if what is created by want and dream
is indeed as authentic as any reality,
then what we are is authentic.
and you become my reality.
in truth we have only miniscule things in common.
A few shared moments
Too short to be worthy of mention.
We are
hardly more than strangers.
But we are surviving,
And it is only because we have each other.
And perhaps this clinging for survival is
A kind of love.

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~obscured
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You have written a wonderful poem that is very moving in a sad, yet solacing way.
You show love has no concrete definition and speaks the language of one’s own reality.
You show love often survives in shallow recesses, where roots seem to find no crevice to go deeper, but becomes stong by entwining into anothers roots and hanging on.
This poem shares its very soul with us and I enjoyed reading it very much.
baz
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I agree with Baz. You have written a wonderful poem. To me, it says that two people (i like to think a man and a woman, very attracted to each other in many ways) meet momentarily but frequently in a public, artificial setting and their love for each other somehow manages to exist and be seen by each, even though the words and actions are superficial and they don't really meet privately or intimately. Perhaps one of them (or both of them) is very lonely and finds in the other a beautiful spirit.
Thank you.
sg