Juliet wakes up to the love of her young life lying on the cold floor beside her altar,
candles slowly melting,
giving her false hope
that there is still some color left in his cheeks-
that some blood moves swiftly in his arteries.
She sees the empty vial of poison
rolled forth and inhales the rotten air,
a stale gasp
for Verona’s princess.
Serotonin quickly fades from her brain,
a predisposition for suicide courses beneath her skin.
The agony and anguish overtake her in an unheavenly baptism,
her cries echoing off the catacomb walls, nearly shattering her entombed ribs, mouth melting into
a blackness that fills her
lungs, grief consuming her
fire that spat through her ancestor’s veins.
She knows her cousin is decaying somewhere nearby
and the gray and green skulls of Capulets long dead seem to mourn and mock her just the same
(though she is a Montague now)
Her limbs are stone but even from the lofty white spread of her shroud, she knows her love is
separated by that curtain that seals off soul from flesh
and her heart fails, is replaced by a crater.
The meteor of pain
that destroys her soul
has vanished enough to let her glimpse
the point on the dagger affixed to the hilt on Romeo’s waist.
She could spend forever collapsed at his side.
December Lace is a former professional wrestler and pinup model from Chicago. She has appeared in the Chicago Tribune, Pro Wrestling Illustrated, The Molotov Cocktail, Pussy Magic Lit, The Cabinet of Heed, Dark Marrow and Rhythm & Bones YANYR Anthology, among others as well as the forthcoming South Broadway Ghost Society. She loves Batman, burlesque, cats, and horror movies. She can be found on Twitter @TheMissDecember.