Modern Romanticism

Lace yourself
Around the hollow throat
That leaks only whispers,
For I engage in the merriment
Of a thousand more speeches
On what it means
To see.

You have found yourself
Laying there
Between birch and bramble,
Of anything that can burn.
Ropes tie your legs
While your arms are chained above
Your head, in this forest of dread.

I seek to set a thousand fires
Across your nakedness.
A love I hold so deep in a heart
That begins a flame
Choosing of its reward
Like lust could not be purged by the rain of God's
Fallen tears.

I lose myself
In your stare.
Run myself in a long line
Along your fragile surface.
Burn in the brush,
Wilt yourself like the rose
For your beauty is next to everything.