Modern Romanticism

With everything that streams

From your tresses to your shoulders,

As your tresses to your neck,

Everything golden about you

Is mine for the kissing.

With everything not meant to grieve

When I am with you.

With everything so firm and so amorous

Of your delicate aspects.

Kisses will stream

Upon your frozen lips,

For you have been in the cold, too long.

Too long in the cold, too long

Deep in Hell.

Can I kiss you,

Or will you flee?

Everything golden about you,

Is not meant to be in darkness.