They pray; grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.”
He skitters, like a lizard on hot concrete,
across the gym floor toward the blushing girl.
Through a fish-eyed lens of a woman’s diamond
teardrop earring, Juliet swoons, her lips
overtaken. Romeo devours her tongue.
The crowd covers their mouths, astonished by
the swirls of chocolate and vanilla lips.
Older faces turn selenium; they
rise with huffs and puffs of outrage to leave.
The makeshift curtain scrambles to close, for
its gold-trimmed ends begin the verbal war.
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