It's Not What It Looks Like

Like the steam of fire and ice meeting,
we were rising from the dirty ground
and onto something beautiful,
so easily into something profound.

I would have done anything,
if the apprehension had worn off.
But I had to think a while
before unraveling the cloth.

We would have found paradise,
if she didn't notice so quickly,
hadn't given up so soon,
afloat the blue.
I dreamt it before and I dream it now
to match her grand complexion.

She is all the romantic tragedy
a type like me can endure.
And even that pushes the boundaries
past where I thought I could take no more.