you wax lyrical
dear heart
and I am figuratively sick of it.

when I fell in love with you
I fell in love with Byron and Homer
and I was proud of your prejudice.

but waxing lyrical
dear heart
is a poetical pain in the arse.

and I can't see
past your pulsing desire
for war and peace and never me.

and when I weep -
you weep with me -
but your tears are
di Inferno.