Modern Romanticism

Shadows scorn your eyes,
Making you
The puddles that surround your feet,
Hurled there by your fingertips.
Can the lashes
Atop such a delicate gaze
Carve out more than the fear in your face?
For like dewdrops on blades of grass,
They fall from the black.

I am in needless
Frailty,
Whispering between the stones
Wrapped around my neck.
You are in love
With the cruelest, flattest reflection
To your dimensional self.

I want to kiss
What cannot fly
With wings made of broken dreams.
Beauty rocks you away
From the ivory sky.
You are keen to kiss
Your hands, laced with your tears.

I want to drown you
Softly
In a moment that leads into the flame,
Of a warmth as kind
As what ignites you from behind.