There’s an alternate universe
Where Juliet is lying on
Sweet talking
Romeo’s chest,
Questioning the true intentions
Between his muffled words:
“You are perfect.”
In somewhere,
She gives herself entirely to him
Certain he could be hers in whole –
But waking hours painfully visit,
And fear overcomes her
Gullible little mind, thinking,
I am far from perfect
Let’s imagine, friends
That our Juliet collects her skirts
And rushes out of Romeo’s grasp
Remembering his faltering,
Swaying affections
He loved Rosaline yester-morning
(A piece to the story we choose to forget)
I must not, I cannot
We oft forget man’s impressive
Ability to guard their hearts
And change their minds
Protecting themselves
From woman’s, at times,
Overbearing lust
But in this universe
Our confused Juliet wanders aimlessly.
Punishing herself
For untimely blossomed emotions,
Unable to free her imagination
From the depths of his kiss
He did not say
She began to say,
What I had hoped.
Readers, our Romeo
Is not a romantic
An ethereal love could not
Spark from a night of fun.
So perhaps we misread the
Tale of Montagues and Capulets
Perhaps Shakespeare was indeed
Too consumed with emotion
To understand the laws of
Nature:
Reality
How terribly dull
Life without romance can be
This could have been ours