Tear you open. With the
moon, letting loose light
over your infinity.
With the mouth
to bleed upon, in each
symptomatic kiss,
you fold in the cup to your
breast and unguarded
throat.
We lose the light,
smudging ourselves into dark,
far into the frothing heart.
A sea. Caught beneath.
A velvet room that shudders
in each caress, against
your shoulders, lost between
shadows of night.
Agleam, far within
your unmuffled screams.
Pleasure and delight
fills our sounds,
and our sight.
Place a rose
in your room,
reminding you that
our love is for
endings and gloom.
You weep a tear
backwards, in all you fear,
back up to your eye,
putting yourself back in
the frame,
bleeding for the sin,
waiting in the shame.
Modern Romanticism 