Poem – “Distant Puddles of Water” – Modern Romanticism – 4/6/2022

Nothing else is able to hurt
in the smile, deprived of the stir, –

the stirring of a heart.
The blurring of a clogged
pair of eyes.

But within
where water is left,
the reservoir, kept idle
as the blue moon
fusing in the nighttime gloom.
Here, I wait for the hand
that always trembled –

in the bloom
of a love that awaited
its eternal doom.

If you can,
hurl a kiss across the sea.
I promise I will catch it,
if it will make me see.

If I could.

If wings could grow, –

I’d take you close to me,
along with the curling waves
that, along with these
folding arms,
could settle us in the dark, –

not so far apart.

In the lasting and sudden
winter of a long night,
drowned in the stains and grain,
I can breathe kisses
down your hollow throat,
never letting go.

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