Modern Romanticism

Let stars

Be that which your eyes melt towards,

Upon the newly-forged night

When marriage falls into eternity,

When sleep can be forever awakened

To the light of every sunrise.

I want the moon to never gleam

Its pale image, over our heads.

There is only the joy to see

Where we walk,

Where we speak

To ears that hold notes near

Brought from some wilderness instrument.

I kiss to hold

Your face in my mouth,

Your eyes where they can see,

I will devour

All the tears that you bleed.

When is the next day for you to cry?

When will you find the next second to mourn

For the faces that pray for silence,

Over praying for words?

I will want to cry with you,

Along the ebony fields

Blessed by the arrangement of your ordered hair,

Mocking the night by its radiance,

In its bleakness.