Poem – “Lovesick” – Romanticism – 11/27/2020

A fever warms you,
Yet my arms cannot touch you.
The outline of your form
In the debris that nestles you
Has me cry with the falling
Of snow, in the haze.

I cannot even
Graze a cheek.
I cannot even
Touch a lip,
While yours grow old
In the welcoming dark.
I cannot even
Hold a hand
That trembles.

Fear blossoms
Bleak petals,
Between these floorboards.
I speak
From across this room,
Asking for leaves
To not drop from your eyes.
I tell you words
You already know.

How much sickness
Embraces you,
Outside my reach.

How much warmth
Reddens your cheeks
I cannot teach.

To kiss,
Would mean to die,
Together,
Under the sighing trees.