You hold candles to burn us to
Specks upon an aching shoulder.
Why fall, when we knew
To give the ocean its space?
One final teardrop breaks into cinders,
With heat upon your form I trace.
Walk back those eyes
From afar, to bleeding arms.
Do not stop sinking
Even when reaching the end of me.
You were strong upon your own scenery.
Never decide, so near
That we can smother the sounds,
Among feelings that disappear.
Never stay to disguise
Golden textures within your eyes.
Be as beautiful as the flood
That enters, to recede.
Hold those candles to highlight
Ourselves, as dust atop petals in flight.
Never fall, while the pain madly calls
You, to be among
Salience, your presence in heart.
Stay upon another silence, another’s hall –
Where your portraits would not shatter,
Upon where loss cannot matter.
Modern Romanticism 