Modern Romanticism

I’ve lost sunlight,
been building sights
to see, to only
ever be able to count
their distractions.

While you have been
writing your name,
withdrawing the shame
from within me,
I’ve been able to see
something more,
someone to adore.

Your short walk,
to takeover
the tragic eyes
I’ve undressed,
heals what I couldn’t
come to address,
when alone.

There’s the comfort
of your presence,
taking me
through starlight,
replacing the sounds
I’ve led through winter.

Summer returns
in a startling instant,
when I am sharing in
what you’ve let me
believe in.

Your hair will dance
in the colorful,
radiant sunrise.

Your form will attract
the attention I give,
the awe I evoke.

What’s more than this,
or what’s less than what
I had realized I was,
before bringing you beyond
a door once locked?