Say Something Romantic

Hard being a romantic these days. Nobody wears hoop skirts anymore. Love fills the mouth like chewing gum to bubble and PoP

Hard being a romantic these days. Ruins crumbled, virgins too. No alabaster skin peeking beneath gowns of like pure hue

Hard being a romantic these days. Gone the hero holding secrets as surely as the forest its own hermit in the ruins to brave caverns beneath the castle to free me from myself

Hard being a romantic these days. More sit-com than melodrama. Passion sifted through punchlines and laughtracks. Path through the woods littered with strip malls. I trip over hoop, crash into plaster walls instead of granite. Doorways cannot accept me - too narrow now - secret caverns filled in

Hard being a romantic these days. "Love" sticks on the lips. Pledges eternal punctured thin. Only robes, white sheets from an empty bed. Only ghost, Jane Austen. I am the hermit in the ruins of Romance. Say something romantic to me.

 
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