Modern Romanticism

Words stabilized,
since our departure,
enough for me
to settle symmetry
into one other
painless stone.

Face away
from the other way
I have gone.
Let me record this
in a twisted mind.

Your story
is a different perspective,
a darkened illusion
I cannot look into.

You are a ghost
from another time
I left behind.

Backwards steps
are those I take
on this path,
on this escape
from an era
of its sickness.

One fateful retreat
was needed for me
to disbelieve
in your presence.

I was that blind,
before you gave me
the kindest form
of indirection.