The Line Between Cynical and Jaded.

There are moments in the day
in which I am raptly seduced by your name.

And I feel so silly,
because I know the inclinations of your nature.

You'll wonder for a moment
and then your attention will deviate.

For shame, Romeo.
Verona is not half so fair,
in her former glory,
as she is in the winter.

And Juliet, in such a state,
grows pale.

I sit in solitude and write my silly verse;
as much Jane Austen as I am Juliet.

Perhaps in my jaded anticipation,
the unyielding nature of my consequence
will cool the heat.

But didn't you say that I am the sun?
Deny your name Romeo,
call yourself Paris;
let me be Helen.

Call yourself Mark Antony;
let me be Cleopatra.

Lest...here I am still in Verona.
Fair Verona;
and we are still star-crossed lovers.

Only this affection,
is quite one sided.

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