Modern Romanticism

Love is spotted
Across your heart, as the empowered longing
To see everything meant to be,
Yet couldn’t be.

I was in you, upon a time,
With breath upon every bone in your form.
You breathed over me, in the past when
We knew love for the fields, and their scenery.

I am still in you, am I not?
The little memories, lost in a mind
That has become thwarted by fate?
Forever and again, the film reel of hurt plays around.

It turns,
Like a cog or a wheel, in the joints of a delicate instrument.
We feel, and remain to feel, each pain of movement
We will taste for coming and remaining years.