Modern Romanticism

Let yourself down,
falling with the rain
storming across
ignited skies.

Don’t rush what
we’ve been awaiting
in the circling cold,
bracing for heat.

It’s something
for our leaking lungs
to come to breathe,
while we’ve been
aching to see.

We’ll be someone
to each other,
lost behind curtains,
drowned under sheets,
leaving the residue
of our fortune.

We will remember
what we once failed
to highlight.

We’ll gather together
the seams, whenever
we are in doubt.

We’ll find ourselves
facing the signs
of an arriving,
warming morning.

We’ll treat ourselves
to what we’ve denied,
when we had wept
with eyes always wide.