Call yourself down
Beautiful woman with blessed crown,
And bleed your pain, elsewhere.
Do not shed a tear
Lest to heighten our fear.
With bleeding palms,
We crawl,
We hang ourselves
From the colors of our salvation.
With your features
Decked in ivory cascades,
The future can mourn itself, as dark
Waves begin to find us
On the ocean of gray beginnings.
My love,
Run to your nowhere,
For I will find you there
Hoping the final straw is not short enough
To win you over.
Whether to be on Death’s fingertips,
I will scrape you free
From the sickness of tragedy.
Love’s holy hour
Shall reign forever
On the eve of our sunrise.
Seal your tale
In a heart as feeble
With the tremor of continued
Rhythmic beats,
To open wide the crust,
To signal ourselves
Into the rush,
Within the flow
Of nuptiality to conceal this hush,
For finality to connect
To what we know.
Modern Romanticism 