I am in your arms,
With lashes numbered seven
For each of those studious eyes.
Like the beauty made mother,
Blessed to be another.
You have fires roaring within,
And elegance soaring out.
Here’s my heart for you,
For your kiss, and your shining eyes,
The most a stare can behold.
I am the Devil of a man,
With a Fall that was broken,
By the Earth’s moss.
I see you,
In all your grace,
In all your space,
The universe sheds its blackness,
Upon your arms,
Upon your legs,
And makes a song out of your heartstrings.
I see you,
With a face so alike,
The soft messages of a night,
Bespoken in twilight,
The words of smallest glory,
The words of highest love.
We are an incarnation of marriage,
The first and perhaps the final,
Two shapes,
One of elegance, and one of madness.
Modern Romanticism 
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