Tears fall from
fire-lit eyes.
We have seen lighthouses
guiding sinking ships,
while we walk in puddles
as timebombs, under
seconds that skip.
In the fire,
never carried higher.
Pulling us down
in heated embraces
to see our reflections
at an ocean’s bottom.
Are we in love,
when never above
this shelter of frostbite,
cold burns on our arms?
Hell has caused
our mutual loss.
Burned images
in a captured memory.
We are caught as two deer
before a single headlight,
finding us as strays.
Lost, on our way
to a cliff, where we can sift
through forever drifts.
Modern Romanticism 