He clasped my arm so tightly that I knew there was going to be a bruise there tomorrow. “What do you want me to say Stephan? I can’t just let this go. You know that.”
“And I can’t let you go.” He slams a fist into my gut making me double over in pain.
I gasp for air as I straighten back up, ready for the fight.
Chelsea clasped the locket to her chest. “Thank you. I will cherish it forever,” she said to her grandmother.
Her grandmother smiled. “I know you will.” She then closed her eyes and said, “I’m feeling tired, dear.”
“Yes, Grandma. I’ll let you rest.” Chelsea kissed her grandmother’s forehead and left the room. Then as she stood outside the bedroom door, she opened the locket.
It wouldn’t come undone.
He started to panic, and I almost felt a strange sense of relief.
I wondered how long the clasp would last, before it came undone and I was exposed.
I felt like I couldn’t speak to ask to stop, so i just prayed on this luck to last, that maybe somehow it could end here.
But them I felt a snap, and I knew I couldn’t rely on luck forever.
It wouldn’t come undone.
He started to panic, and I almost felt a strange sense of relief.
I wondered how long the clasp would last, before it came undone and I was exposed.
I felt like I couldn’t speak to ask to stop, so i just prayed on this luck to last, that maybe somehow it could end here.
But them I felt a snap, and I knew I couldn’t rely on luck forever.
You put your hand in mine and I feel your fingers bite into my skin. They are cold, damp, made so by the rain. I try to take mine away but you cling on tighter. You look at me and I know, I just know, I am never going to get away. I’m attached to you by bonds stronger than iron.
The clasp on her bag had been threatening to go for weeks. It finally broke, at the most inpportune moment, in the queue for a nightclub. The contents of her life were strewn everywhere, what an embarrassment. Make-up, tampons, change, bits of papers with notes to self. Hurriedly, she stooped to pick up the scattered pieces of her life. Reaching for the last item, her hand met another.
Her palms were sweating and her breath was coming in rapid pants. She felt dizzy and like she was swimming. Her hands clung tightly to the keys in her grip, the only weapon she had available to her right now. She kept walking, no enemy in sight, but one could always be around the corner.
We clasp our hands in unison and recognition of the goodness of God’s redemption and favor. The place was the gospel hall, and the occasion was the twelve anniversary service of the youth department of our our church.
“No. Nope. NOPE. Get back, get back off the edge.”
“But, I can’t die here twice, right?”, Rory gasped, nervously.
“I DON’T KNOW. GET BACK, DON’T DO THIS!”, Amy screamed.
Rory leaned backwards, dangerously.
Amy ran to him, clasped his hands in hers.
“If we die, we die together, okay?”
“Okay.”
He bought her a beautiful necklace for her birthday. She couldn’t wait to wear it and show it off when her took her out for dinner. It wasn’t until they reached the car that she realised she had lost it. Did she secure the clasp properly?
IT wasn’t that I wasn’t willing to clasp on to his last words to me before he got mad and walked away . NO , It was that I literally could NOT follow what he was saying. I did try , you must know .I tried to follow along but the horrible grammar just had me wincing and wanting to clasp my hand over his beautiful mouth , otherwise and say – Hey man , no words . Just stand there and let me study you and find what it is that I found years ago m when I could not get enough . .It was not his fault where he was born and chose to stay to make a life for himself . It just did not hold well in MY bones . The circus I was standing among was a daily fixture in my life now . Everyday, I would have to correct my young son. He was picking up these horrible regional phrases that “over- my- dead- body – you -are -going -to say- as -long -as- you- are -my-child”. I would have to literally UNDO what the small town was DOING to him . And to think,
I try to clasp onto every second when I am in my home town with my family . I try to clutch every second, but no matter how tight I grab ahold of it ? The bitch of time wins , and it always gets away and I find myself back in my car, loaded and gps headed back north . And I never know if I am going to see them again all together ?
bra hands shorts shirt clothes chinese sweat shops sea ocean Asian travel thread material lamps I cant think of anything else to say help there is nothing to say about clasp it is something you open and close oh dear dumplings racist
bra hands shorts shirt clothes chinese sweat shops sea ocean Asian travel thread material lamps I cant think of anything else to say help help there is nothing to say about clasp it is something you open and close oh dear oh dear dumplings racist
that moment when the world disappears and everything looks bleak, when your life seems to have halted and living is impossible, I try to clasp unto to beam of hope, it is all i have
George’s hands clasp around the sword at his hip. He pulled it out and wielded it into the air. He pointed in at his gigantic foe, feeling like David and Goliath. The fight was all around him, but HIS battle had just begun now, and it was going to be DIFFICULT one.
Agrab whatever comes to you. but take care – is it hot? is it poisonous? is it dangerous? sharp? but if you hesitate and if whatever came was a golden opportunity, you may lose it. what is worse – you may keep regretting all your life about what a golden chance you missed. but clasp is something which holds things together. clasp on a ladies’ handbag. missing a clasp may cause things to fall apart.
it’s early.
the sun hasn’t even woken yet
but my mossy eyes are open and full of dreams
I’m eager to start my day,
turn on my thoughts.
softly brush my long auburn hair
hoping not to wake you
i stretch the necklace across my chest
hands behind my neck and embrace the clasp.
a perfect display of individuality grazes my t shirt
i’m tired.
i miss the stars.
the sun is rising
i feel like my day is over-
time is slipping between the
cracks in my thoughts
but time isn’t even real –
i could have made it up myself!
and that’s saying something.
your numbers don’t belong here.
you label everything.
i’ve made my own time
it’s four in the afternoon
and if i want to sleep i will
i will wake to the sound of
the moon shining
and i’ll cry myself all the way
into the morning’s breeze
don’t try to stop me
i’m sick of being quiet for you
if coffee makes me fall asleep than so be it
don’t try to steady my hand
i shake off desperation like a forgotten dream
i don’t beg for shit.
it’s early
the sun hasn’t even woken yet
but my eyes are open and full of dreams
I’m eager to start my day
turn on my thoughts
and brush my long auburn hair softly
hoping not to wake you
i stretch the necklace across my chest
hands behind my neck and embrace the clasp.
a perfect display of individuality grazes my shirt
i’m tired.
i miss the stars.
the sun is rising
i feel like my day is over-
time is slipping between the
cracks in my thoughts
but time isn’t even real –
i could have made it up myself!
and that’s saying something.
your numbers don’t belong here.
you label everything.
i’ve made my own time
it’s four in the afternoon
and if i want to sleep i will
i will wake to the sound of
the moon shining
and i’ll cry myself all the way
into the morning’s breeze
don’t try to stop me
i’m sick of being quiet for you
if coffee makes me fall asleep than so be it
don’t try to steady my hand
i shake off desperation like a forgotten dream
i don’t beg for shit.
I clasped her hands between mine, they were cold. I willed her to stay. I willed her to love me. I willed her to feel anything for me, in that moment, anything strong enough to take the desperation out of her eyes and the hatred out of her heart. because i knew that she felt so lost and so angry in that moment that even i couldn’t save her. there was nothing.
Her hands were clasp behind her back as she peered in to the depth of the pond. Underneath, deep, deep underneath was something. She saw it. She knew it was there. She looked harder, waiting.
“Hello?”
Her heart beat frantically in her chest as she waited.
As he went to speak, I quickly clasped my hand over his mouth, worried he would ruin this wonderful moment with what happened last night. There’s this happiness bubbling inside of my and I don’t want anything to ruin that, because what happens then? Will it be awkward? Will we hate each other? Or maybe.. Everything will be okay? I don’t want to take that risk. I’m scared, and worried, and I shouldn’t be feeling that right now. I should be exploding with joy.
the tiny legs grasped my finger,
as if to clasp my whole soul in friendship.
a firm grip, but not unpleasant.
I opened my eyes more to gaze
at this small and weary traveler.
I quickly clasped my hand over his mouth, worried he would ruin this wonderful moment with what happened last night. There’s this happiness bubbling inside of my and I don’t want anything to ruin that, because what happens then? Will it be awkward? Will we hate each other? Or maybe.. Everything will be okay? I don’t want to take that risk.
I clasp my hands as she sings. I was so proud of her. Her being my friend who has a really good voice. I knew she can do it. I believed in her. She showed me that she can do it.
There were so many people on the audience. This competion has lots of candidates. But when hearing my friend singing, I was so happy. She has the best voice. She told me she just wants me to be there for her. Even though she has her family and friends.
She now overcomes her stage fright. Now the judges are announcing the winner.
Guess who won?
I clasped the arms of my lover. She is beautiful and magnificent and bold, yet timid and not confident. She has no time for me. I clasp on to anything i can grab of hers: her hands, waist, face, etc. She is a freer spirit, and not guided by the rigid guidelines that I abide. It scares me.
The necklace clasp won’t fasten; I keep fumbling it with sweaty fingers. I’m not used to this kind of finery, not used to having to dress up. I’m so ill-suited for this, I keep thinking. But I want to look nice, too…I want to look nice for HIM.
Her necklace clasp was hard to open. She wanted me to put the necklace on for her, so that she could she herself with it on, but I it was stuck. A disappoint ment is what this necklace was. It’s all I’ve ever been.
The ground loomed below. Jagged rocks jutted from the cliffside and stuck up from the ground like jaws. Her feet scrabbled for purchase on the smooth unyeilding cliff face. Arthur clasped her hand tight.
“Don’t let go”
“Arthur.”
There isn’t much to it really. See? Just slide this over your wrist, and place the thumb through here. Very simple. Pull these here to adjust the tightness. Don’t want it too tight. Let me know how the compression feels. And these clasps lock on here with the velcro. You can loosen it up a little if you need to. Very easy.
He clasped my arm so tightly that I knew there was going to be a bruise there tomorrow. “What do you want me to say Stephan? I can’t just let this go. You know that.”
“And I can’t let you go.” He slams a fist into my gut making me double over in pain.
I gasp for air as I straighten back up, ready for the fight.
She clasped her hands together and prayed, “Dear gods of my mother and ancestors deliver this man to me.”
Behind her, the crowd swayed, baying for blood.
I clasp my hands for joy, especially when I see my babies! I clasp onto my little baby’s blanket.
clasp this seat belt
Chelsea clasped the locket to her chest. “Thank you. I will cherish it forever,” she said to her grandmother.
Her grandmother smiled. “I know you will.” She then closed her eyes and said, “I’m feeling tired, dear.”
“Yes, Grandma. I’ll let you rest.” Chelsea kissed her grandmother’s forehead and left the room. Then as she stood outside the bedroom door, she opened the locket.
It wouldn’t come undone.
He started to panic, and I almost felt a strange sense of relief.
I wondered how long the clasp would last, before it came undone and I was exposed.
I felt like I couldn’t speak to ask to stop, so i just prayed on this luck to last, that maybe somehow it could end here.
But them I felt a snap, and I knew I couldn’t rely on luck forever.
It wouldn’t come undone.
He started to panic, and I almost felt a strange sense of relief.
I wondered how long the clasp would last, before it came undone and I was exposed.
I felt like I couldn’t speak to ask to stop, so i just prayed on this luck to last, that maybe somehow it could end here.
But them I felt a snap, and I knew I couldn’t rely on luck forever.
You put your hand in mine and I feel your fingers bite into my skin. They are cold, damp, made so by the rain. I try to take mine away but you cling on tighter. You look at me and I know, I just know, I am never going to get away. I’m attached to you by bonds stronger than iron.
The clasp on her bag had been threatening to go for weeks. It finally broke, at the most inpportune moment, in the queue for a nightclub. The contents of her life were strewn everywhere, what an embarrassment. Make-up, tampons, change, bits of papers with notes to self. Hurriedly, she stooped to pick up the scattered pieces of her life. Reaching for the last item, her hand met another.
The clasp of my grandmother’s necklace holds generations of secrets tightly around my neck
Her palms were sweating and her breath was coming in rapid pants. She felt dizzy and like she was swimming. Her hands clung tightly to the keys in her grip, the only weapon she had available to her right now. She kept walking, no enemy in sight, but one could always be around the corner.
We clasp our hands in unison and recognition of the goodness of God’s redemption and favor. The place was the gospel hall, and the occasion was the twelve anniversary service of the youth department of our our church.
“No. Nope. NOPE. Get back, get back off the edge.”
“But, I can’t die here twice, right?”, Rory gasped, nervously.
“I DON’T KNOW. GET BACK, DON’T DO THIS!”, Amy screamed.
Rory leaned backwards, dangerously.
Amy ran to him, clasped his hands in hers.
“If we die, we die together, okay?”
“Okay.”
He bought her a beautiful necklace for her birthday. She couldn’t wait to wear it and show it off when her took her out for dinner. It wasn’t until they reached the car that she realised she had lost it. Did she secure the clasp properly?
IT wasn’t that I wasn’t willing to clasp on to his last words to me before he got mad and walked away . NO , It was that I literally could NOT follow what he was saying. I did try , you must know .I tried to follow along but the horrible grammar just had me wincing and wanting to clasp my hand over his beautiful mouth , otherwise and say – Hey man , no words . Just stand there and let me study you and find what it is that I found years ago m when I could not get enough . .It was not his fault where he was born and chose to stay to make a life for himself . It just did not hold well in MY bones . The circus I was standing among was a daily fixture in my life now . Everyday, I would have to correct my young son. He was picking up these horrible regional phrases that “over- my- dead- body – you -are -going -to say- as -long -as- you- are -my-child”. I would have to literally UNDO what the small town was DOING to him . And to think,
I try to clasp onto every second when I am in my home town with my family . I try to clutch every second, but no matter how tight I grab ahold of it ? The bitch of time wins , and it always gets away and I find myself back in my car, loaded and gps headed back north . And I never know if I am going to see them again all together ?
His hands were clasps. Two plastic bags of cereal dangled from them. His puppet eyes stared, over the cliff of the counter and at the windows.
bra hands shorts shirt clothes chinese sweat shops sea ocean Asian travel thread material lamps I cant think of anything else to say help there is nothing to say about clasp it is something you open and close oh dear dumplings racist
bra hands shorts shirt clothes chinese sweat shops sea ocean Asian travel thread material lamps I cant think of anything else to say help help there is nothing to say about clasp it is something you open and close oh dear oh dear dumplings racist
She clasps her hands in false-worry, brow comically creased. “Oh no!” Her voice is too loud, too concerned. “Will he be alright?”
that moment when the world disappears and everything looks bleak, when your life seems to have halted and living is impossible, I try to clasp unto to beam of hope, it is all i have
a verb : to tie or hold something together
George’s hands clasp around the sword at his hip. He pulled it out and wielded it into the air. He pointed in at his gigantic foe, feeling like David and Goliath. The fight was all around him, but HIS battle had just begun now, and it was going to be DIFFICULT one.
Agrab whatever comes to you. but take care – is it hot? is it poisonous? is it dangerous? sharp? but if you hesitate and if whatever came was a golden opportunity, you may lose it. what is worse – you may keep regretting all your life about what a golden chance you missed. but clasp is something which holds things together. clasp on a ladies’ handbag. missing a clasp may cause things to fall apart.
i’m sick of being quiet
because of you
when did you start becoming so weak
and stop doing anything for us
why am i carrying us both?
clasping the hand gently
she makes a fist.
eyes widen
surprised by her own strength.
day 1 of life
and already human curiosity at its finest.
it’s early.
the sun hasn’t even woken yet
but my mossy eyes are open and full of dreams
I’m eager to start my day,
turn on my thoughts.
softly brush my long auburn hair
hoping not to wake you
i stretch the necklace across my chest
hands behind my neck and embrace the clasp.
a perfect display of individuality grazes my t shirt
i’m tired.
i miss the stars.
the sun is rising
i feel like my day is over-
time is slipping between the
cracks in my thoughts
but time isn’t even real –
i could have made it up myself!
and that’s saying something.
your numbers don’t belong here.
you label everything.
i’ve made my own time
it’s four in the afternoon
and if i want to sleep i will
i will wake to the sound of
the moon shining
and i’ll cry myself all the way
into the morning’s breeze
don’t try to stop me
i’m sick of being quiet for you
if coffee makes me fall asleep than so be it
don’t try to steady my hand
i shake off desperation like a forgotten dream
i don’t beg for shit.
it’s early
the sun hasn’t even woken yet
but my eyes are open and full of dreams
I’m eager to start my day
turn on my thoughts
and brush my long auburn hair softly
hoping not to wake you
i stretch the necklace across my chest
hands behind my neck and embrace the clasp.
a perfect display of individuality grazes my shirt
i’m tired.
i miss the stars.
the sun is rising
i feel like my day is over-
time is slipping between the
cracks in my thoughts
but time isn’t even real –
i could have made it up myself!
and that’s saying something.
your numbers don’t belong here.
you label everything.
i’ve made my own time
it’s four in the afternoon
and if i want to sleep i will
i will wake to the sound of
the moon shining
and i’ll cry myself all the way
into the morning’s breeze
don’t try to stop me
i’m sick of being quiet for you
if coffee makes me fall asleep than so be it
don’t try to steady my hand
i shake off desperation like a forgotten dream
i don’t beg for shit.
I clasped her hands between mine, they were cold. I willed her to stay. I willed her to love me. I willed her to feel anything for me, in that moment, anything strong enough to take the desperation out of her eyes and the hatred out of her heart. because i knew that she felt so lost and so angry in that moment that even i couldn’t save her. there was nothing.
Her hands were clasp behind her back as she peered in to the depth of the pond. Underneath, deep, deep underneath was something. She saw it. She knew it was there. She looked harder, waiting.
“Hello?”
Her heart beat frantically in her chest as she waited.
The clasp met her collarbone in gravitationally favorable asymmetry.
As he went to speak, I quickly clasped my hand over his mouth, worried he would ruin this wonderful moment with what happened last night. There’s this happiness bubbling inside of my and I don’t want anything to ruin that, because what happens then? Will it be awkward? Will we hate each other? Or maybe.. Everything will be okay? I don’t want to take that risk. I’m scared, and worried, and I shouldn’t be feeling that right now. I should be exploding with joy.
the tiny legs grasped my finger,
as if to clasp my whole soul in friendship.
a firm grip, but not unpleasant.
I opened my eyes more to gaze
at this small and weary traveler.
I quickly clasped my hand over his mouth, worried he would ruin this wonderful moment with what happened last night. There’s this happiness bubbling inside of my and I don’t want anything to ruin that, because what happens then? Will it be awkward? Will we hate each other? Or maybe.. Everything will be okay? I don’t want to take that risk.
I clasp my hands as she sings. I was so proud of her. Her being my friend who has a really good voice. I knew she can do it. I believed in her. She showed me that she can do it.
There were so many people on the audience. This competion has lots of candidates. But when hearing my friend singing, I was so happy. She has the best voice. She told me she just wants me to be there for her. Even though she has her family and friends.
She now overcomes her stage fright. Now the judges are announcing the winner.
Guess who won?
I clasped the arms of my lover. She is beautiful and magnificent and bold, yet timid and not confident. She has no time for me. I clasp on to anything i can grab of hers: her hands, waist, face, etc. She is a freer spirit, and not guided by the rigid guidelines that I abide. It scares me.
The necklace clasp won’t fasten; I keep fumbling it with sweaty fingers. I’m not used to this kind of finery, not used to having to dress up. I’m so ill-suited for this, I keep thinking. But I want to look nice, too…I want to look nice for HIM.
Her necklace clasp was hard to open. She wanted me to put the necklace on for her, so that she could she herself with it on, but I it was stuck. A disappoint ment is what this necklace was. It’s all I’ve ever been.
The ground loomed below. Jagged rocks jutted from the cliffside and stuck up from the ground like jaws. Her feet scrabbled for purchase on the smooth unyeilding cliff face. Arthur clasped her hand tight.
“Don’t let go”
“Arthur.”
There isn’t much to it really. See? Just slide this over your wrist, and place the thumb through here. Very simple. Pull these here to adjust the tightness. Don’t want it too tight. Let me know how the compression feels. And these clasps lock on here with the velcro. You can loosen it up a little if you need to. Very easy.