Modern Romanticism

Drink up, our sweet gazes

Staring into that of another.

We only speak words made for the glass

Of ivory in the highest clouds

And the lowest graves.

Hold out your hand.

I'll give you the world,

Though will you hurl it away?

What is your face following?

Where is your heart wandering?

Our love in the blankets,

Our eyes in the solace

Of a new and old moon

Still sees color upon the Earth.

There is gold upon the galaxies,

Their circles envelop your form.

There are rings about planets,

As next they'll accompany your fingers.

Laced with sweet memories

Of a fine moment

In sweet kisses and bitter walks

Down the wilderness with its growing lanes

And fervent pains.

I will be there when you drink

The cup of ivory from your aromatic skin,

As I notice the skies falling into your eyes.