O’ Juliet


Of love, what does a Romeo know? Is it conquest, guile, sweet sensuality
found in for-certain surrender? Romeo’s lair being the feathered pillow
filled with lies, eyes encroaching upon the egress of innocence, compliments
compounded over time, teasing laced as if an assassin’s poison. O’ Juliet.

Of love, what does a Romeo know? Is it ego, self-adulation, social serendipity
fabricated in false narrative? Romeo’s sexual prowess the tour de force of
prior rumor, lust laden women who rue fidelity and virtue, braggadocios men
ballyhooing incessant immoral banter, who dream of such conquest. O’ Juliet.

Awake O’ Juliet! Cast off hypnosis. Brush away floating feathers. Be not
lead to lay in his lair. Let not Romeo's encroach upon your egress. Bat away
his suggestive eyes. Treasure fidelity and preserve your virtue. Of love, what
does a Romeo know? Is it conquest? Is it ego? To yourself be true—O’ Juliet.

© 2017 by emmett wheatfall

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