JULIET[1]
Your counterfeit corpse
Bought brief passage through long night
Away from family and title.
But on the hour’s other shore
You woke to find your falsehood right:
In Romeo’s blood your fraud’s writ still.
You do not die. I don't believe
That down, you followed him,
Sepulchral steps forlorn.
On the threshold where we grieve,
You wait, our tears collecting to the brim,
Upon a constant tide of longing born.
We write you pseudonymed again,
And line for miles through city streets
Aspiring maidens to accommodate you.
Of you the palimpsest will ne’er be cleansed.
The rhythm of your heart the ritual drum beats.
Sacred, monstrous Juliet, I hate you!
[1] This poem was written on the cover page of the film’s shooting script and found pinned to the door of its producer the morning principle photography began, June 12th, 1920. Bloom was not seen or heard from again.
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