This poem is obviously an homage to Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, but reimagines Juliet as language itself.
But Soft
Give me a thousand words and I will dance along the aesthetic of their evocation.
The light through yonder window breaking.
Give me a man who can climb the vines of my verbiage and meet me up, up, up.
It is the East, hear the maid-sun.
We will luminate from balconies.
Beacons to close eyes, we will hold fast,
raise each other high with quiver and quiver.
Give me the images that gnaw,
and I will lay them to waste with an incantation we will share.
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
who grieves for lack of lips.
Give me a thousand words, each one a maid of the image, yet far more fair than she.
