Pain that never conveys
another second, nor a word
when a kiss plants itself as a seed
on your time-worn lips.
Holding hope upright
in deep soil,
inside a forever heart, raised
like tortured infinity
against this limitless night.
I have another second
to shelter you,
in decaying arms.
I label your mirror,
understand your face.
I see simple sights,
a sickness that repeats
in a thudding heart.
Carved ruby, cradled again
for a time, in ragged,
bruised extremities.
Those lips, stretching
to speak something that
I recognize.
When wanting to,
release your light to that
incoming wind, to unfurl wings,
to soar further.
To smother flames.
To answer to your name.
I’ll recede what reaches you –
those tidal waves of shame.
If you scream, I’ll close your lips
to my widened eyes.
I’ll shout Heaven closer
to bring you light,
in your hollow form.
Modern Romanticism 