Modern Romanticism

Ten fingers
continue their push
in their perspective
of what’s warm,
what fuels fire
to keep burning.

Two minds,
two halves of a heart
bound into unity
overlap into eternity.

We’ve loved,
starving for tomorrow
to cure our sorrow
into poignancy.

Raining tresses
decorate your art,
your divine body
as a sculpture of snow.

Glimmering eyes
capture all around us,
send me an invitation
to accept your song.

I’ll drink your presence
like a wine,
dancing to the tune
presenting in your breaths,
carving an ideal
from the real.