Modern Romanticism

Block those miles
with repeated ruins,
felling symmetry
at the single blink
of a tearful eye.

I have heard
what calls from
beyond our frozen,
twisting stream.

I have melted,
when I have come up
to replenish life
within a memory.

You are one more dose
to satiate a dwelling heart,
moving me, into those ruins
for one more embrace
under a humid,
dense atmosphere.

You were once
present, in being that
which comes out
only when I tremble,
only when I believe
love will go on
like blood, within
a roaming corpse.