Juliet

 

Maybe, just maybe, this was a bad

idea, standing here, looking up,

hands sweating in each other's embrace,

searching for a trace of her to appear

at the window, my Juliet, beautiful,

amazing, long black hair, voice

that reaches inside me and draws

all the power away, my Juliet,

avoiding the balcony I so want

her to set foot on, avoiding me,

her Romeo, though I don't think she knows

that fact, or she chooses

not to recognize it, maybe

I should move on, find another

window to pine under, amore receptive

Juliet to long for, one I might

have a chance with, one who might

want me to be her Romeo, wait,

was that her shadow that just slinked

past the closed curtains, my heart

pounds in my chest at the glimpse

and I know this was a bad idea.