Don’t you miss the foundation,
During when
The waves collapsed your shore?
You were ever
The face to kiss,
Same with the sunrise
When I could not turn around,
For I missed the sunset.
Don’t you dwell in isolation,
Worshipped by those who bathe you?
Falls originate from your eyes,
Though the fall begins from your feet.
You were delicate,
In your grace.
Living as those would, within puddles,
Loving in the grief,
Though desolate in all of your speech.
Each heartbreak was a reminder,
To your wrong.
Don’t you want
To drink the same ocean
Your eyes have created?
You’ll blink with the sunset,
Revive the old terrors,
Relive the cold
In the everlasting winter,
While you space yourself in the current,
Hell-bent on seeing your world as different.
Modern Romanticism 