Modern Romanticism

Start drinking
The solace, with the air of your breathing
As Heaven rips away from your throat,
Coated with the silver of the moon.
I have come as the groom,
With you, the bride,
Holiness has reprieved loneliness
As circles surround fingers,
Gold and timeless.

I want to cry
All the words in my language,
That of the one,
Of intimate gladness.
Words that are loosened from melted lips,
While hands are held with an angel's twisting wings
Made as the marble palms
Not to slip free, the me from the forever.
My eyes see the woman for my adoring.

When we are locked away,
Let loose the garments that flood the room
With a scent, buried in flesh that has met the summer
Winds, in the heat of a hundred breezes.
You are,
Without one doubt
The creation of God, himself.
Come to rival the angels, around,
For they will gaze with envy.

All that I see
Is the world I want to be
Staying within,
In your heart that shelters me
In the redness of a world that never absorbs
Any sadness, any sorrows, any mention of pain.
My fingers stab like glass
The flesh of my own
To see all I have honed, for you to grasp.