Poem – “Why Let Me Love?” – Modern Romanticism – 3/31/2022

For the infinite
knows no start to hold
a hand, on this sacred land
where your lips
were the fine wine to tell me
secret words that were
folded in torn paper,
a crippled heart.

Just the end, to kiss you
beneath starlight and moonlight.

Just the last moment
where I lost it all;
above your grave, absent of all
I could not save.

Just Heaven
to send a burning star,
far apart
with the flame from fissure,
a ridge, a scar,
a river where in sadness, I swim
to believe in love I can rewin.

With the infinite
where there is no start,
no hand to hold for the journey
on a walk, alone
to your lonesome home.

To your handsome abode.
Standing up, looking up
to the falling drops, –

to your face imprinted in clouds.
A desert beneath me, an ocean
stretched out, in silence,
a melancholic shroud.

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