Modern Romanticism

Modern dualities, our ceremony
of entering into persuading arms,
as we are daring –
filling our cup with the contents
of each other’s stares.

I love, whereas I also dance
to these thuds of a heart,
familiar to that of bodies
fading with their suddenness
of losing balance.

We have fallen, in love
with our own storms.
We seek mirrors, while hiding
our ugliness, from the sun,
holding out one hand
to see rifts being pulled close,
with sceneries being set ablaze.

I am the lone witness
of you, my dear, drawing near
like curtains, to smear me
with naked shadows.

You have been bathed
in all my world’s tears.
We hold hope around our necks,
drinking fever at every breath.