Modern Romanticism

Turn around
On your heel of torture.
You have pressed into me,
Into each hollow sleeve,
The love that grows vines,
For beauty that refines with time.

I will see,
Exquisite charm, surrounding yourself,
In the dimness of a new evening.

Love has made patterns,
Scattered with petals,
Made me smile for the world, too.

I walk a long road,
To the furthest shore,
Where each thunderous dance, with your unguarded form
Makes me descend my head
For the savage taste.

Your life
Is breathed into me,
Like stems that raise from the Earthen brown
For the taste of poison in my mouth
To be consumed in justified greed.

I embrace, in my hollowness,
The form that eclipses the moon.

I embrace you, in your everything,
Making peace with my demons.

I taste new sweetness on my lips
When I kiss your own, beneath the blackened silver
Above us,
While the night surrounds,
As the nightingales call.