Modern Romanticism

I don’t want you to feel fear,

Nor is there cause to spill tears

When my hand caresses your cheek.

Because, all that should bleed

Is the love between us,

Down upon our knees.

Down to the spot where we are weak,

Where I am weak,

And where you are heated,

Like the melted candle, enters a fragrance.

Like the love we give to float

Above our eyes,

Above your cries,

Above our solaces and sadness,

You are too beautiful,

Too exotic,

Too erotic,

To have to die so swiftly.

Plea to me,

That you will not die,

Not before I swipe away another tear

Free from thee.