Modern Romanticism

Your sunshine
goes out, in a nighttime shout
to your departing heart
that poked through the sand,
finding where teardrops would land.

You were the only witness
to these petals that downpour
their fall, from grace,
from this vast space
a garden used to grow.
You were, once, that one
to keep me leaning towards
a rising sun,

being that one
to live on, to keep open
a door where footprints
were always going on.

I did not know
when you were letting go,
while I was letting go
of heavy rain.

I remain, continuing to stain
these palms that reach
for air, I shouldn’t breathe,
for memories, I cannot retrieve,
without drowning.