Modern Romanticism

Capture this, what we have become,
dragged into this – a misfortune
of one we’ve named a safety.
Held close, diamonds rush past,
in this burning air.

We’ve come together, blended
like dark within dark.
We’re entwined in either’s thoughts,
facing voids, enough that we
have begun to avoid
what stirs the most noise.

We breathe over each other,
loosening tears upon another,
while leading ourselves over
that steepest fall
into our hearts, to where
we might find it a step forward
to see our reflections,
without unneeded dissection.

Perhaps at some point,
we’ll find what keeps us sentenced
to this Hell, towards passion
where we’ve blinded ourselves
in this tension.

We’ve torn into our forms,
as if to find details inside pages,
as if to seek a story
other than that one exposed.