Modern Romanticism

A haze
of your familiarity.
I leave another rose –
a fragment of my heart –
to die, beside where you are,
folded in the earth,
like a letter that crumbled
with its words, those that became
mere whispers.

Silence in this violent
path through a life,
caught in space.
I have heard you,
like you hear these prayers
that question your commitment
to a darkness.

You were hanging there,
whereas once you were
always hanging in there.
Where you are,
you’ve left snow
for me to walk on,
designing history
with shreds of a noose,
colored in a life once loved.

I am pushing on –
pushing rocks, falling on
rivers that carry down
the crimson of anticipation.

One small step backwards
causes me to kiss a shadow.
It is you, I know
who keeps me in growth,

even though I know
there always questions to sow.