Modern Romanticism

It moves within
your echoing day
like smooth ripples,

hoping to reach
a long shoreline.

You swim beneath
a frozen lake,
anticipating one morning
to melt your shield
into fractures.

You teach a storm
to keep braving you,
telling it at night
there’s nothing more
than to be alright.

But you’re quivering
in your concealment,
dripping black
onto a white page.

Dissolving into vapor
let loose from your lungs,
finalizing a vow
to retreat from right now.

Velvet torture
has your smile
lingering.

Fields of yellow
burn you to run
from the sun.