the last romantic verb?

I had an email from E.J. in my mailbox this morning, with a single line...in quotes. I can only presume that he means it as a suggestion for the CD title...

the last romantic verb

It's a line from my poem "TRANSCENDENCE", which is in the final trilogy of the recording. It...sticks with me, carrying the right mix of mystery and clarity. Perhaps, perhaps.

I leaked the audio to a handful of people whom I respect, poets, artists, former lovers and good friends. Got back some feedback on the level of Zaphod Beeblebrox when he was hooked up to the Total Perspective Vortex. It's one thing to think the universe revolves around you.

Maybe I can write. Maybe I can perform. (All creative artists spend their lives bouncing between arrogance and a conviction that everything they do is unadulterated, irredeemable crap...)

It's like writing and sending off a love letter with mortal fear and trepidation, only to find the object of your desire waiting for you, naked, when you get home. You must've said something, done something, right.

Oh God, I've raised the bar again, haven't I? Crap and crumpets: I'm screwed.

Oh, and what is "the last romantic verb"? Now that would be telling. What do you think it is?