you wax lyrical
dear heart
and I am figuratively sick of it.
when I fell in love with you
I fell in love with Byron and Homer
and I was proud of your prejudice.
but waxing lyrical
dear heart
is a poetical pain in the arse.
and I can't see
past your pulsing desire
for war and peace and never me.
and when I weep -
you weep with me -
but your tears are
di Inferno.
