Mysterious
'When you believe that romance is when you’re stroked my moonlight, when stars spell out your name and earth beneath your feet are clouds like cushions from the heavens, you are mistaken for a caricature.
To hold you is to burn my flesh while I am sedated and hypnotized by your false security. Romance is not the sweet words you sell to me, which are too costly. It is not the ripe heat in your kiss, which only leaves me without breath. Nor is it the way your glowing eyes pierce into my soul, the way light transfixes darkness.
No, romance is the sinking city of Venice. It is beautiful, timeless, and unforgettable. It shall whisper sweetly to you as it is swallowed by the ghostly sea. You will reach out your hand for it, while fog surrounds you, and you lose your step. You will call for it desperately as you are debilitated into depths, to no avail. It is the echo of footsteps on a weary staircase, but with no mortal. The way you love the sun and its warmth, but your eyes are seared when you approach it. Thus is romance. Romance should not be loved.
Romance is not love. '
That is one of my latest pieces, not my best, but I think it gets the point across. I'm beginning to seem more like a politician and less like a poet....yikes.
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