Curtains and flames,
Hauntings among
Brittle blame,
While the fog settles across
Her crying eyes.
To the truth
For her spark,
With love
Broken upon the sight
Of angels,
From above.
Slender touch,
Feeble,
Yet transparent
Within the lakes she’s created,
Burning in the sunset
To her heart.
Light upon
The swiftest surender
For love’s holiest seed.
Calming her
In sickness’s story
By the pages of twisted plots,
Broken spines.
Nothing
To rake of the leaves
Dropped from the autumn
In her blue eyes.
Modern Romanticism 