We were not
Meant to be more than the sunset.
Just humble twins,
With aching hearts
Bleeding the same blood,
Holding the same hands
To the same
Connected pulse.
Rhythm stops
At the choosing of tears.
We crossed the same ocean
We also drowned in.
We knew not
If the tides carried
Nor abducted us.
We kept our heart close
Even within storms.
We loved,
Even while we were ashes.
We remained
Even when hearts were cold
Placements in a cage of bone,
Becoming stone.
We lived,
While trickles from our eyes
Reminded of our wounds,
Deep in the ocean
As tides,
With a moon to pull in
For the embrace.
Modern Romanticism 