Compared to Home, what is Rome but
Many imposter stones, who flaunt paunches,
And chiseled jaws, and abs thick cut
But never earned. The fountain launches
Water "non potabile" from a fishy gut,
Or seems to. Yet the endless craft
Is effortless, since the secret is the pressure
Merely directed. I admit I laughed
When I saw the Fountain Naiads who lure
Water horses and lizards into their fray,
For each is doused, but the one for sure
Is so angled that she must need a bidet.

Compared to you, Rome can only boast
Of satisfaction in her sweet "pasticcerie"
And hot coffee, when your French toast
Is bettered with bacon. Italian cheerie
Exists in the smiles and sweet abuse
Of the street vendor, who starves his family
To make you an offer you can't refuse.
Just today I bought a scarf of cashmere
Which came from India. And although
The tag said China, I have no fear
That he'd sell me Nylon for twenty-two euro.

What is Rome when compared with thee,
But arches which soar and crack and fall
Never to be moved nor fixed. You can see
The lazy layering in the Forum floor and wall.
Caesar makes a triumph below his arch
While trodding flesh arches on trash. And
The river never ceases her acid march,
Hoping to carry away less from that land.

I blindly walked into the pit;
I stumbled, fell, and cried.
But when my soul called out for help,
I found Him at my side.
"You cannot go the way you came,"
My Lover said to me.
"But the road to home is long and cold.
There's hardly light to see."
"Yet trust in My Plan, My love,"
He said to me once more,
"For when you call upon My Name,
There's no pain you can't endure."

So many weary ways I wandered,
Each more lonesome than the last.
Many times I slipped or stumbled,
And couldn't feel my Lover's grasp.
Many nights spent sleepless sobbing,
And ev’ry one was worse for wear.
Yet often when the road was hardest,
I couldn't feel his presence there.
And as more endless caves I conquered,
And with each fall felt more near dead,
Longer did I lie half-waking,
And longer lay the road ahead.

Still, sometimes when I look behind me,
And see what dangers there have been--
Narrow ways and broken bridges,
And hollow caverns caving in--
I know that He's been there to guide me,
And, once more, I can begin.

Like, what even are you?
No way in a million lives
Could I dream up someone like you.
I can’t even begin
To comprehend what the actual heck
(Heck heckin’ heck)
Kinda glitch in reality ARE you?

I can’t even—
I can’t even open my mouth and begin—
You!

You!?!?
I get so excited,
I can’t poetry anymore
(And I swear I’m usually
Not too bad at poetry).
But I want to say something!
Because you deserve to have a million words said about you.

Baby, I can’t even say,
“I still can’t believe this is real,”
Because I’m still stuck on the “this.”
What is it that I can’t believe?
What even is this?
What even are you?
The word amazing couldn’t begin to describe you!

I’m kinda afraid to say the rest…

“I feel like we’re made for each other”?
Can I really say that?
No-no-no—
It’s much too soon.
Maybe you aren’t real, or
Maybe you are
But I hit my head on something.

I’ve gotta be insane.

I’m-I’m crazy.
“This” is crazy!
YOU are crazy!

Hot ****, you are crazy.
I could eat you up.
How is it that you drive me wild
Just by being you?

I wish I could capture your essence in a bottle
And strike it rich.
“Lizzie’s miracle drug.”
Except that makes it sound super addicting
Or sensual,
Infatuation-al,
But that’s not what I mean at all.
I just mean I want to tell the whole world
How amazing you are
Because I want them all to appreciate you, too.
But I don’t even know where to begin
And every attempt keeps falling flat
(And falling for you).
I mean, how many stanzas have I written already?
And this is just the prologue—
Monologue—
Gutentäg—
Ratlin bog!
(Sorry, I needed to make sure I can still rhyme.)

They say love lost is better
Than never loving at all,
And oh My God, I know it must be true
Because even if “this” crashes and burns
I’ll never be the same—
Never!
Even if it breaks my heart,
I will always be that much better.

Oh Lord, I’ve gotta be a fool.
A fool in love.
A happy, foolish fool.
There isn’t even a part
That’s careful for my heart,
A part in my gut that says,
“Slow down and think of all the ways
This could go wrong. Be prepared!”
Oh, there was a time when I cared.
Heaven help me if I care now!
Yes, I want to take it slow
But not as a fail safe. No,
I want to take it slow
Because— for “this”—
I want to do this justice.

If that’s God’s will, then,
Glory hallelujah!
Only then,
I can’t believe this is real!

You know I don’t believe in soul mates
Because there’d be too many ways
A person could ***** himself over
And be unhappy for all of his days—
Then what would happen to his mate?

You know I don’t believe in soul mates
Because some people may never be
Good or holy or mature enough
To be worthy of matrimony.
So what would happen to their mates?

I do not believe in soul mates,
In one person being your destiny—
Because we’d never find that one
Among the fish within the sea—
And what would happen to our mates?

No, I don’t believe in soul mates.
Even though God brought us together,
And it feels like we’re made for each other,
I could be happy with many another.
What would happen to your mate?

Well, I don’t believe in soul mates,
Even though our powerful Lord
Knew from the beginning of time
You and I would strike a chord.
What would we do if we were mates?

I said, before, and I’ll say it again,
Despite what my experience claims:
Soul mates? Oh, they’re not a thing!
But… what about twin flames?