Fewest pictures in the background
Speak to me repeated sounds
For your fairness, beneath the blackness
Where you conceal the smooth ripples,
The flowing tracks to paddle backwards
To your razor eyes in the sadness.
How often have you concealed this wound,
Carrying on, upon man-made lakes?
How desperation digs you deep
Beneath craters, in Hell –
Gently dropping tears into those wells.
In love with a raven,
As her mate waits within Heaven.
Blow faint kisses in the smoke,
Attempt to heal the heart that broke.
Blackest of auras, above pages burned –
As love letters where lipstick stains
Spots, for feelings learned.
How often to find the wound –
Knowing its veil before the ceremony
To a raven in matrimony?
While the skies open and close –
Remain your eyes to the latter,
That a final kiss will raise you as greater.
Modern Romanticism 