O Romeo
(in the 21st Century)
Doth thy tender profile break on yonder Facebook page
As I scan thy brow that traces streaks of sky
Across thy Blog; I readeth thy missals and thy texts
Knowing they were meant for me—O foolish mind
O vain illusion, assuming all, or nothing,
As tenuous as Instagram, that haunts my waking dream;
How fortunate that I canst text thee in this virtual manner
Avoiding your risk of scaling my balcony and falling to my dismay
And scraping thy knee, or more, scarring thy pate,
Thy profile, so that virtual clouds would weep
Virtual tears, for earth could not bear to lose thy unearthly beauty;
No, my lord, thou canst text me from thy room and keep secret
Our hidden melodies from our families, the Capulets
And Montagues who would break with cruel intent and delete
The bond that lashes me to thy soul; yes, send a brief tweet
If thou canst, and hold thy tablet close to thy breast, closer to my doom,
Knowing that my heart beats against the glass of thy Chat Room.