Romanticism is
Melancholic at best
Always daydreaming
Each one a test

I'm a hopeless optimist,
Some may say.
Tossing petals on a silly rose,
wasting the day.

The idea of love,
So open and free
Thought provoking, mysterious
Until it gets to me.

Then I recall,
Why I prefer being alone.
It's hard to find peace,
In someone else's home.

By home, I mean mind
Two becomes one
You both have to share it
To simply enjoy the sun

Idiosyncrasies,
Start to synchronize
The way we view life
Is seen through one set of eyes

We become a machine,
Two bodies and one brain
A lovely entanglement
Loneliness has been slain.

You passed the test,
And you've set me free,
But only through binding,
The concept of 'you and me'

Romanticism is
Melancholic at best
Until the real thing comes,
And starts a fire in my chest.

Our tears touch-
They mingle
And smear together,
Becoming one;

Tiny vials of our soul-
In the form of tears,
Each half empty,
Until they meet as one.

Our lips kiss,
Sparks fly,
To and from, joining,
Becoming one.

Our souls leap
To meet each other,
To send sparks,
To announce the union.

Tears we cry,
Kisses we give,
All are glimpses
Of our souls,

Finally meeting ever so
Slowly but surely
They mingle
And caress.

Yours and mine,
That have searched
For each other
For all time.

Let the tears flow,
Let the kisses rain,
For you have found me
And I have found you.

For our tears mingle,
Our kisses send sparks;
They speak to the heart:
You and I are Soulmates.