Rolling anchor,
Wind upon cheeks,
Loyalty is a farewell
To the skin that trembles
In the undying cold.
Her tears come running
To flood her way.
More words come shunning
The woman into smoke.
Feel her heart
Boil against the brine.
Touch her hands,
Having held to her lips
The feverish wine.
Call her by name,
Not by shame.
Direct her by a way,
Not by plays
Where she has acted hollow joy.
Walk together
On wind-stroked sands,
Sweetening her tears
To fall
As wide-red rose petals.
Once a love begins,
A train starts
A path on reluctance.
Feel her broken heart,
Mend her severed strings
To serve every moment in warmth.
Modern Romanticism 