Tell a lie. Tell those eyes
we were due for more
when time slides glaciers,
over tombstones.
A sentence, a crude ring
giving gesture to magnetism.
You were free in this light,
roping surrender
around me.
Un-against grain, inside
porcelain towers. We reached
for Heavens, combined,
while love drew
around us,
one perfect circle.
Paved footprints, angles of
places we fell in, to go,
while our hearts quaked
our answers into ruin.
Our journey became
a malnourished lane,
deprived of devotion to
heaven’s wealth.
We forced eyes to be
what we cannot ever see.
Lifelong recompense
will not reuse
that needless sentence.
Modern Romanticism 