Modern Romanticism

Settled down, upon knees
for their value, for depth,
for everything sincere,
with few things ever severe.

Thoughts are collisions,
confusions are apparent,
though nothing occurs
upon a second,
in this stark sentiment.

A face, a mask
watches, for expression,
from who it wishes to reach
with a hand, to land
a teardrop, to catch,

to prove its security,
without ever showing
a sign of severity.

Its place in sincerity
may be a temporary allocation,
before eventual separation.
Body from body,
mask from missing eyes,
nose and lips.