A smile through teeth.
Twin faces, curtained clouds,
with the phantoms our shadows.
The shores, they cling
to all that messages bring.
Collected, connected
droplets, tears
in a clouded bottle.
Form your eyes
out of haze.
Our love in this room
has bled in its fire,
our heart in its maze.
A sun dropped down a slope
carrying hope
on the longest wire, -
connected, collected
inside shards of our mirror.
Broken bottles, watering eyes,
faces wilting in the debris,
lowering to the light.
Messages etched in the paper,
words carved in the sand.
Can we reminisce
on all we do miss?
All grains on the infertile sand
wait, as the dark to the stars,
in finding emptiness
within infinity.
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Modern Romanticism 