Modern Romanticism

When we’ve held hands,
crying about our birth
into painful seconds,
we’ve often failed to deliver
on a single choice.

To be here,
reunited within waves,
fabric that glistens
over our carved out,
renewed bodies.

This time,
we’re getting there,
devoting our minutes
to the moments
in a second chance.

To be everywhere,
not disguised to forget
why we’re strong
enough to surrender
to the steps.

Life’s faced a nightmare
that looked too clear
to be crystal.

Love revisits a dream,
burning it as the reality
of a filled-out page.

We won’t go back
until we’re allowed
to turn to
the ending.