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by Chris Ingham
Risen from her tomb, and mine.
I remember when first we met,
Tentatively touching. Fingers
Seeking, the bond so tightly set
That a trace of you still lingers
In the cell of my soul's regret.
Living, it steals from the chambers
Of my heart's tomb for Juliet.
I hear your voice softly caress
As I surprise you on the phone.
Excitement trilling, you profess
Love in code; you are not alone.
I laugh, tease, force you to digress.
Smiling, I promise to atone.
We part in sorrow, Juliet.
Slow, imperceptible reality
Wound silken thread tightly around
Our joy. Cocooning sanity
Smothered the chrysalis and bound
Our emerging fidelity.
I let conformity surround
My love for entombed Juliet
We briefly met again today
And I felt the chrysalis stir
Despite my captive soul's dismay.
Feelings begin to disinter
Entombed souls, long hidden away.
She rises and like a voyeur
I resurrect my Juliet.