Modern Romanticism

Let your sun come up,
To crash with the wind,
Making warmth sear my cheeks,
Loosening radiance against these scars
That recede like waves from the shore
Into sculpted memories.

I am, where you falter,
Beneath the anchor.
We are Moses, choosing to be stagnant,
Rather than to part the reflection,
The complexion
Of captivation.

Just a heart buried too deep,
Just a moment we can delicately reap.
Just an ocean we had begun to seep
In memories carried backwards,
While nothing is motioned forward,
By tides we did weep.

I caress,
As I undress
Your face from its sobbing,
That I might soothe your constant trembling.

Beneath your anchor,
I am weighted
By the sorrows that never lifted,
From the vessel that never drifted.