Poem – “To Drown, in your Place” – Romanticism – 11/29/2020

How I hold your hands
Close to my lips,
Feverish, they are
By the sudden storm
Above your head.
How the waves touch
Your barren skin,
How the ripples never die
To the calmest stillness.

Loving
With wires left to untangle
Of your matted hair,
Where my eyes, buried in tears
Bleed, for all to be aware.

Your eyes
Form the oceans
For my collapse,
A silence never stays
Enough for me to pray.

To drown,
To crown
Myself, the fallen King,
Yourself, the risen Queen,

Pulls oceans apart
For your passing.

What a sickness
Upon you!
What a love
I call the doves to,
That you might wash ashore
To hold hands with the sand,
Speaking of happiness
Where you clean yourself.