Modern Romanticism

Where did the river go

Beneath where the fog drifts?

I find myself hiding in the light

For you to find

Something different than what was left behind.

Travel to me

From your tears, to me.

Fall upon me

When you reach me.

There was something revealed

In your bleeding arms,

Was it ever my love,

Or was it the blood

That you felt, roaring down?

Let us leave

For deeper tomorrows,

Not for the gradual pain

That invents the past

By throwing it forward.