Modern Romanticism

If this heartbeat
can be our whisper,
I'll let it sing
for tears to become
a morning's gleam
of dewdrops.

I'll let it bring
our eyes, close enough
to see our worlds
swimming in their match.

We've selected scenes
to be played, repeatedly.
We've been united
even within the mist
that we sometimes thought
blinded us to presence.

We've been loving
all details in this tale,
connected, even when
we felt we were drowning
under a sea of white.

Writing letters,
drinking from breaths
released at those signs,
upon a road
where a future grows.