Herein,
You love
With gifts made to forget
Each twisted facet
You’ve yet to overcome.
By sight or by sound,
With rooms to decorate, around
The center of a vivid field
Between us.
I can hold your hand, forever.
Will you release
The tiny tortures you cling to?
Pain being a memory,
While eyes seal in eternity.
Precious stones
For the crust of a scar
Seem to wait,
While you run far.
In the desertion of an ocean
For an unchanging desert;
Wilting with the memorial
To signal our passing.
Moments
Most crossed,
Being mostly hazed
Are upon us, atop the earth,
Finding our burial a testimony
For more lines in the sand
To be drawn.
Modern Romanticism 