Modern Romanticism

Leaving echoes,
reliving ripples,
connecting the dots
among faint stars.

Undressing wounds
to see what's reflecting
in this night,

one where answers
are never clear.

I live in this
permeating darkness,
rewiring a heart,
hoping to find
everything that I
left behind.

You were there
to hear me contemplate,
to know when I
had been thinking.

Such thoughts,
such a sensation
that stirred
until all became
a blinding blur.

Having dipped
a pair of feet
in these waters,
I still do not see
the difference
between what bleeds
from what breathes.

What is life
if it doesn't feel?

What is death
if not secrets sealed?