How great,
For how subtle
To never lose you
In the wild rain,
Within the washed-up grain,
Stealing a sign
All over again.
A ghost in the doorway
To look upon you,
As I falter
In this place,
In the afterlife.
Here, the heart screams
With the churning of iron
In my cold bloodstream.
Falling apart,
In the wind.
A look upon your lips,
A scar to where I kissed
Your pain into the night.
Your hands stretched out
To conceal your heart
With the moon,
Inside the bloom,
Of many moments, in bare witness
Of those idle kisses we gave,
In many dropped anchors
For the lives never truly saved.
Modern Romanticism 