Raise your lids
To see the sun,
There is warmth to lift you,
There are seeds to grow,
And a life to sow.
Let your hands down,
Let me kiss you
Under these feverish rays.
Don’t blanket another storm,
And let gravity be your comfort
To my undying arms.
Lose your voice
In the wind,
For I will catch it,
Cradle it
Like some child, never mattered.
Point your fingers,
Loose your trail,
I will find you,
I will fill you
Full of the same love
You knew to grew above,
Down to your throat
Where song does not float.
Modern Romanticism 
Leave a reply to coco Cancel reply