Modern Romanticism

I restate this dust
to be your magic,
for you’ve come in
like a whirlwind,
sweeping away
all the decay.

You’ve entered,
exiting from somewhere
still so old, still so
unappreciated.

You are fire.
you’ll be here,
much like the spark
ignited in your stare.

You’ll be gone,
removing yourself,
reserving who you are
for another time.

You’ll be water,
you’ll glide away
with all the clutter
returning this way.

If a kiss is laid
upon your heart,
will a second more
be enough for
an eternity?

These hands come close,
these eyes come closer
to shelter you within
a different chapter,
where the flame you’ll be
is as admired as smoke.