Modern Romanticism

You’ve created labels,
letting symbols forge connection,
while leaving wounds open
for the next selection.
Your world, a wilderness,
a space to be lost,
while signs are everywhere –
everywhere,

but leading feelings nowhere.

To a door – you are exiting
from tragic sceneries,
of rooms covered with dust,
of closets, where those emotions
start to rot, start to rust.

I remain here, holding
the wind, only the wind
that soars between fingers,
since the moment you left
to see where dreams may linger.

You are wanting. You are deciding.
You are living in the presence
of leftover reminders – shrouding
what little you have to salvage.

I am keeping – through thoughts,
I am seeping inside these palms
vacant words of promise,
where meaning is a phantom.