Modern Romanticism

I’ve carried far
little things,
for your appreciation.
Still, I am far
from sinking in,
being far, from being within
the warmest infinite.

If I can
enlarge this stare,
breathe in your same air,
I have held a diamond close
to the surface
of waters,
that were always deep.

I will relive
something I once felt,
a while ago,
kissing your smile,
in the snow,
craving more seconds
for higher sentences
of promise,
while we will burn
before remade entrances.

From tears
to unwritten letters,
I am speaking what has not
ever been said,
liquifying ourselves,
in the rush,
leaving our greater selves
resplendent.