Speak in your tongue
out for all you belong.
Taste that smile under a sun,
bending texture to burning bright,
a feast for eyes, decor for
heaven’s rush, Hell to run.
Radiant passion in deep caress,
as petals float about your dress.
I feel close in one final step
to drown you in my resignation
under your wings, beneath those eyes
I fathom as kindest among sunrises.
Final fall to our foundation,
where long rivers have us meet.
I know to push you
from wave to guiding wave.
I know from tears we bleed
that our rush means the stars,
with these lips speaking
old words, old songs beneath boughs
for shared sights, our hearts bestow.
Dim sky, rolling on burning trails.
Bright eyes, round heart, a tear caught
at last sight before words had taught
your wings to soar, your ship to sail.
Loving in freeing wind,
guiltless among the nesting sun.
No light could abandon us each
while a love brings more within reach.
Modern Romanticism 