Modern Romanticism

I choose to
dig into, while you are
always a shadow away.
Your memory
wipes clean this exhaustion,
reaps the smile
from the sadness.

I choose what
keeps forever closest,
reading goodbyes like
relit candles.

To be burned into firelight,
to seek shelter in an evening
where fog will remain
this darkness, this burial.

Once bonded, in arms,
now bandaged inside curtains,
fatal in what this
became to be.

I continue to love,
while I refrain from taking
a word from the final chapter.
I cross my life's bridge,
under your shadow,
hidden in your eclipse.