Bleeding on towards
The feathery horizon,
Holding a note in yearning hands,
Curling toes against damp sands.
Why must the sealing
Of two hearts, in distant scenery
Come reeling?
Why must
With eyes that never wait
Without the stammering heartbeat,
Our voice choke upon the wind?
Why must the vows
Threaten to come plummeting
With the pressure in the blood,
With the fault
In the earth’s tremors
And the ocean’s flood?
Our imperfect,
Senseless
Cries to add droplets
To an already-filled ocean,
Comprehends weight,
Sees our state
Crumpled in the breeze,
Solid in the release
As a rock dropped in a puddle,
As a form that fell.
Of eyes, admired,
For a sun, desired
Upon its warmth, in the bitterness.
Loving with eyes,
Never smiles.
Modern Romanticism 