Modern Romanticism

How often
Does a man
Lead himself astray
From the eyes that held the ocean,
To now hold the barriers
Quitting him from the dive?

For you have torn me apart
In your currents.
I cannot bear to watch you weep
With sullen smile
To comfort me, for the while.
You bleed, without need.

I am in love with dread,
A demanding grief, to be fed.
You call through your ebony smile,
Wanting to be seen
For the suffering that gropes you
Faster than does your waves to the shore,
Than does your tears to your lips,
Than does your tears to your chin.

I want to lay with you
Beneath sky and sunset.
I hold a torch in a hand,
With the other full of sand.
I comprehend the deepest bottom
Where all could be sent
Were you to be bent
With tears to seep to your feet.