When upon. Whereupon
those pages we typed,
described. Whenever,
wherever we mourn outside
those sides of crystal
mirrors. Desperate reflection,
viewing darker sides
behind hands that conceal.
These forever
promises to believe
in anything more than
painful grief.
Graceful. When grateful,
while wielding our courage
to escape from dark halls.
Wasteful. When kisses
tremble, under those rising
eyelids that see. Always seeing
paining swells in oceans.
Colored vows. Vanity
often resembles clarity.
Before an altar,
caressing our aches.
When painless, whenever
more than this.
Wherever we stretch to
catch a weeping sunrise,
we remain curtained,
holding our screams
from releasing.
A kiss upon a sweating
brow. Another fatal moment
gone away. One more sentence
held together, for its
promise that made us.
Painless, when we
are able to breathe,
once more.
Drowned in our
serrations. Depleted
in our resignations.
Modern Romanticism 