Modern Romanticism

Lasting lesson,
a final word
to leave me here
too breathless to state
anything otherwise,
too harrowed to see
anything else.

For I’ve seen
what you’ve let me,
within this whirlwind,
feel among clouds
that escaped lungs,
gasping at a sight
while wandering
inside a void.

I spoke what won’t
come back within
this cave, this mind
that won’t rewind
the facts of an era
that made them be
what they’ll be.

Who’s seen me flee?
Who’s heard me curse
what’s come from
a painful presence
this revealing to me?

I am here, kneeling
before what’s no longer
shrouded inside its
congregated identity.

I am here, feeling
the scars before they
are born like the stars,
carrying my heart
like an incessant infant.