Modern Romanticism

Walk on divided curtains.
See the sun's unrest.
I have long awaited you,
with the fable to treat.
There are shadows, departing.
Light, that settles in.

I want to hold hope in long arms,
cradle the forests in their
descending leaves.

The light of day
sleeps not with its frozen blanket
in the soundest soundlessness.

Winter curves shoulders
apart from the rain
that reminds faces of the pain,
to the curl of eyes
behind layers of shame.

I want to hold you, the crown
that is set down
upon the aching throne.

Hold a future,
bare the past in unkind stories.
Walk around, come around
with fires naked in hands.