Modern Romanticism

Breathless notes,
softened heartbeats,
craving nothing better
than our turn,
at the gates.

We were rejected
for what we didn't say
to each other,
after every day
we held back
the weather.

We were selected
for another storm,
bleeding rain
onto the other's
bruised skin.

We were hiding it all
from the open sun.
We wanted a shortcut
around the stains
we believed that we
were able to cover.

We wanted an escape
into boundless love,
while we deprived
our hearts, from peace,
from what we did not
ever attempt to keep
inside our honesty.

Now we will drink
the waters of a downpour,
building bridges to burn
before we ever turn
to cross them.