It is the world
we terminate,
while we isolate
our disconnected,
internal beings.
It is this space
we designate
to a constant rush,
a gathering flood
for many buds.
Our smiles
defeat secrets.
Our hopes
dissolve turmoil.
Our faith
diminishes doubt.
We’ll revisit this
during days of dark,
deciding what comes after
we’ve let go of the rest.
We’ve been yearning
for this much
to hold within hands
once dragged in the dirt.
Modern Romanticism 
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