I Fear I’ve Read Too Much

I fear I’ve read too much to fall in love.
Fictitious is the love I’ve known,
And thus pursue until my own,
Is worthy of the poison’s shame,
Or can withstand to topple thrones,
To slay the man with stronger claim,
And lets fate cast us where she aims.
I fear our times subdue the truest love.
To fall in love with all the grace,
Inside a soul and writ on face,
At first impress, and to decide,
To take no home than at the place,
And gaily fare a fortnight ride,
To warm one’s palms upon her side.
I fear I’ve fallen many times in love.
With beauties centuries before,
Whose lineage is lost in lore,
Whose lives grow grander yet with age,
But though I’ll love no other more,
They are but names upon the page,
And lo, my heart is unassuaged.
I’ll love the girl who understands my love.
We knew them well, so we’d pretend,
Why not? We know them well like friends.
We dream the lives they lived in words,
So that their lives may never end,
And that our lines and theirs are blurred;
Behind the binding, souls are stirred.
I’ll love the soul that understands my love.
It’s not that I don’t share my mind,
But authors thoughts survive in time,
So let’s together write a hook,
So that your words may live in mine.
We’ll love like speech marks overlooked,
Within our own unwritten book.

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