Modern Romanticism

Anticipation
has stretched sensation
over this featureless,
smooth complexion
of mine.

I am in awe
of what I’ve craved,
laying beneath me,
spread like waters
with its waves
that never crash.

Our significance
in surest unity
has become defined,
with its pieces
once like loose vapor.

Your skin unleashes me,
invites hands to surround
your value as a treasure,
as a feast for my senses.

For tresses that fall
like ashes in the wind.
With breath this sweet,
eyes this radiant,
you break loose the sinister,
tragic memories,
when storms didn’t calm.