Modern Romanticism

Soft sighs,
delicate tongue
decides for me
what to say,
to unleash
one word.

Love is a rope
around my broken neck,
as I fall up to the sky
to see what I
leave behind.

It’s for your sake,
because I know that I
won’t be myself
when it’s only you
that I get up to wear.

Life is a swirl
of lingering conflicts,
each one a stone
getting colder.

I’m not among them,
when I’m naked,
beside you,
on this battlefield
of asymmetry.

Death is a child’s toy
that elongates a shadow
to scare away innocence
into no tomorrow.