Modern Romanticism

Melt the snow
from frozen fingers.
Calm a lake,
for symmetrical,
revealing reflections.

I’ve been believing
since the moment
when we clashed,
since we first erupted,
with a pieced together
smile from Heaven.

I’ve been hoping
the tears won’t sweep
our bodies in their rush
to fall to our feet.

If we kiss again,
will we hold the moment
by our heartstrings,
by what rhythm brings?

Life has drenched us
in bitter fluids,
while love has dried us
upon a rising sun,
painting our faces
in a golden hue.

It takes our toil
to tighten these knots,
to rewind our minds
back to better times.

It requires a vision
to see any reason
to upkeep a preferred
version of ourselves.