Modern Romanticism

The jaws open wide,
Leaving me space to crawl,
Leaving me gaps to enter,
Leaving me miseries to console.
The lips plastered there
Upon her surface,
One swollen
By eyes of innumerable tears,
Calls me to her wings.

I am a rose too many
In this burning bouquet
I hold, in arms, steady,
Though rotten.

Fires lick me
Of her cascading embers,
Dive into me
The waters of my driven self.

Lies accuse me,
While truth abuses me.
Life carves a rope out of my veins
To see me defeated in a low drop
To a floor,
Colder than my grave.

She wields her design,
So well confined
By tantrums so sweet,
I could truly keep.

I blind her smile,
She sends through, to smelt me
Into a newer flesh.

I desire no more than the horror
Having ached my skin
For too long to deny the splendor.