Modern Romanticism

Countless eyes,
among stretching shadows,
as you are here, awaiting
what little I can give
to keep you smiling.

One more teardrop
adds to the flood,
raises the tide
to further paralyze
the state of us.

We are bound,
though we go nowhere
on a train, with our pain
taking us everywhere
our imagination
is taking us.

We live, while we
do not breathe,
while love has colored
our skin with rust,
covering our hearts
with piling dust.

These tears are yours,
this ocean has been
what keeps us floating.

We both wish for light
to be what finds us,
before our faces wrinkle.

We both wish,
when we both kiss
to remake a spark
to brighten our nights,
dining on blood
from radiant wounds.